.^ 
 
 **^J^ 
 
TOUR 
 
 OVER THE ALPS 
 
 AND IN 
 
 ITALY. 
 
 BY AI.BERT MONT]&MONT. 
 
 Translated from the French, 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR SIR RICHARD PHILLIPS and Co. 
 
 BRIDE-COURT, BRIDGE-STREET. 
 
 1823, 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Thb following work contains much correct information ; the 
 occasional observations of a man of taste and learning, ad- 
 dressed to a congenial spirit upon the various materials which, 
 with an easy elegance, in a clear and animated manner, he 
 briefly analyses and examines. In addition to the acquisitions 
 previously communicated by other meritorious writers, he has 
 brought together many facts, characteristic and highly descriptive 
 of the countries and their inhabitants, in the little scenes and 
 incidents which awaited him — the little pleasing pictures 
 which he happily sketches, scattered here and there through 
 the letters. 
 
 In an area so crowded with magnificence, intercourse with 
 its novel and curious circumstances, however frequent, varied, 
 and habitual, will never produce satiety — will never lose its 
 hold upon the mind. 
 
 The spirit of patriotism and good sense, the impress of ge- 
 nerous feelings, which pervade the author's elegant and gentle 
 mind, cannot be more advantageously exhibited than it is 
 throughout the volume. But to enjoy the full force of many 
 particular topics, which give an insinuating interest to the 
 narrative, the inquisitive Reader must apply to the Book itself. 
 
 G. Sidney, Printer, 
 Northumberland Street, Strand. 
 
TOUR 
 OVER THE ALPS, 
 
 AND 
 
 IN ITALY, 
 
 IN LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 EXCURSION FROM PARIS TO GENEVA, THROUGH DIJON, BOLE, 
 rOLIGNY, AND THE MOUNTAINS OF THE JURA. 
 
 On the 9th of August, 1820, our varied peregrination com- 
 menced ; my companions through the progress of it were two 
 of my pupils, committed to my care by their relations. The 
 first incident that took place was forming an acquaintance 
 with two Scotch gentlemen, whose humour led them to set- 
 down minutely, from memoranda on the spot, such observa- 
 tions as would occupy immediate attention, as they successively 
 arose. They wished to accompany us in our route ; their re- 
 marks on the principal cities, people, and places, that we 
 visited, being such as would interest the general traveller rather 
 than the philosopher. Our curiosity to explore fresh conti- 
 nental scenery, the majestic ruins of Nature, buried in the 
 bosom of Solitude, or the new paths that industry is gradually 
 opening, through the great discoveries and noblest works of 
 art, was no less ardent. Added to which, we meant also to 
 note regularly, to relate and describe unaffectedly, whatever 
 might appear to deserve notice in the various stages of our 
 journey. With such a similarity of tastes, we formed, altoge- 
 ther, one of the completest companionships for such an under- 
 taking that chance could bring together. 
 
 These Scotch gentlemen were strangers to the French lan- 
 guage, but they brought with them la bourse Men garnie des 
 guinees — a necessary interpreter, that will find provisions of 
 due kind and quantity, that will foster an intercourse among 
 different nations, be they ever so dissevered by land and 
 ocean, ever so discordant in manners and religion. But this 
 
 Voyages and Travels, A^o, LI, Vol. IX. B 
 
2 Montemoni's Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 interpreter is sometimes at a loss, and cannot entirely deter- 
 mine about every thing. The two Caledonians could only con- 
 verse in the idiom of Shakspeare, and they necessarily became 
 our correspondents, in most things acquiescing in our 
 judgment. 
 
 Their tour became subordinate to ours, but it was at their 
 own request. We cordially embraced them as descendants 
 from the Bravoes of Morven, as wanderers, roaming far from 
 the woody hills of their land, from their shining streams that 
 warble ceaseless inspiration. All new and original as they 
 were, we had pleasure in the thoughts of being any ways ser- 
 viceable to them. 
 
 We crossed the plains of Burgundy, where the waving har- 
 vests were bending beneath the breeze with extreme rapidity. 
 In two days and two nights we reached Dijon, famed for its 
 groves and arbours of vine-trees — for its wines of choicest 
 store. Here we approached the Saone, in the Stygian gloom 
 of whose lazy current mauy a son of old Silenus has volunta- 
 rily ingulfed himself, anticipating death's domain, to which 
 he must soon have yielded. 
 
 We were now landed in a country that must raise respect 
 and admiration, that must command our praise, from the 
 worthies of other years and times — it was the country of Buf- 
 fon, Cribellon le Noir, Bossuet, and the caustic Piron. After 
 an excellent supper, the fleeting moments passed swiftly — the 
 hoary head, with his wrinkled brow, would have felt his cares 
 most sweetly soothed by the high-flavoured wine of Vougeout. 
 Next morning, ere Sol's sacred lustre had gently brightened 
 into day, we were sweeping over the beautiful landscape, and 
 the opulent city of Dijon, its beauties veiled in the shade, and 
 growing dim to the eye, was disappearing. Speedily we scud 
 across the plains, along the banks of the Saone, the scenery 
 embellished with f<jrms of varied and graceful hue, and the fea- 
 thered choir enchanting the eye with their beauteous plumage. 
 While contemplating and comfortably enjoying the shifting 
 scenery of the traveller's life, we had entered Auxonne, sa- 
 luted by some salvos of artillery, and were set down at Dole, 
 on the banks of the Doubs. 
 
 Here we had time to rest and refresh ourselves ; after break- 
 fast, changing our voiturc, we began to ascend and traverse the 
 very wide expanse of the Jura mountains, and had the satis- 
 faction of ai riving, in a few hours, at Poligny, built on a lofty, 
 commanding site. From its elevated ground may be seen au 
 extensive tract of country, to great advantage, the eye follow- 
 ing the course of it as for as to La Franche Comte. 
 
 Jn the evening we arrived at Champaguolc, where the 
 
Journey from Paris^ to Geneva. 3 
 
 charms of a siren singer detained us some hours, in festive 
 glee, till the instant of our departure. Our Scotch companions, 
 social in their dispositions, yet detesting dissipation, seemed to 
 be warmed with no common-place feelings of pleasure. Asto- 
 nished at the harmonious powers which the French language 
 possesses, as varied in the sweetness and melody of her voice, 
 they availed themselves of the opportunity to enjoy her com- 
 pany, and it was evident they were doing no violence to their 
 inclinations. They complimented her with much vivacity, and 
 were happy to do any thing that could be agreeable to the 
 lovely creature. 
 
 At half, past eleven at night, we set out from Champagnole, 
 and pursued our rambling ; but though all the splendour of 
 the day had fled, it was not a sad lifeless evening shade, set in 
 mists and darkness ; the moon's sacred lustre hallowed the 
 dun gloom with its beams, and by the dawn we had reached 
 certain elevated points of the Jura. Wildness is the distin- 
 guishing feature of the valley of Lavatay, and in this respect its 
 districts possess and present all that the solitary mind could 
 desire to contemplate. We descend in it as into an abyss. 
 Innumerable blocks of stone, mouldering fragments, and huge 
 ruins of rocks, lie scattered through the valley, but chiefly near 
 the bases of the mountains from which they have fallen. The 
 picturesque effect of this extensive area occupied our imagina- 
 tion for some seconds, and in five or six hours more we reached 
 the heights of Gex, from which we discover in front the lake 
 of Geneva, and the great Chain of the Alps. 
 
 Here all was enchanted ground. Had 1 faith, like the an- 
 cients, in the existence of genii locorum, I should believe or 
 imagine that the presiding spirit, the genius Loci alone could 
 depict the new charms every where diffused on the scenery, 
 could alone impart the solemnity, strength, and elevation, of 
 nature's stately ornaments. But here the grave and lofty sub- 
 jects, whereon her powers are so peculiarly and expressively 
 displayed, are blended with that liveliness, that great diversity 
 of style and manner which appear, in numberless instances, as 
 marked by the hand of art. Here is no continued, quiescent, 
 irksome monotony ; the eye is pleased, ad infinitum^ with the 
 regularity, copiousness, sweetness, arising from the variations 
 of the latter, inspiring sentiments and emotions of a more deli- 
 cate texture, while ideas of an order exceedingly different are 
 raised in our minds, while the majestic qualities and charac- 
 teristic properties, of which nature is susceptible, and herein 
 is fertile, in so eminent a degree, render this spot superior to 
 all others ; it is not excelled by any of which we have know- 
 ledge, and is, perhaps, the happiest for itinerant contemplation 
 
4 Montemonfs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 of any in the known world. The panorama, in its circle of 
 expression, its powers of accommodation suited to different 
 tastes, displays such an evident abundance as I am unable to 
 pourtray at full length. 
 
 A near hand view of the country presents the increasing 
 growth of cultivation in spacious plains, fields, and vineyards, 
 of great luxuriance and beauty— innumerable towns, villages, 
 and orchards, which lie all around — dusky groves, and pine 
 forests, that stretch themselves on the sides of the green hills 
 — castles erected on elevated ground, the cantons of Berne, 
 Zurich, Lucerne, &c. inhabited by an active, hardy, industrious 
 people, with different parts of the Valais, and the city of Sion, 
 the capital of its episcopal government. Here Zephyr breathes 
 upon the azure waves of a peaceful ocean, here the heart glows 
 with a softer scene ; there, at a distance, under a lowering 
 sky, the savage beauties of the Alps, simple, but grand objects, 
 surprise us with awe. I observe the cloudy heads of those 
 stately piles, those towering rocks, those stony ridges, with the 
 sylvan gloom of the deep valleys extended at their feet ; I see 
 the haughty crest of that huge Mount Blanc, scowling to the 
 vast arch of heaven, and involved in endless sleet. His wide 
 stretching arms clasp the boundaries of my view, and a pale 
 zone of unmelting snow closes the fair landscape scenery. 
 
 At the foot of the Northern Alps runs a ridge of mountain- 
 ous wrecks and fragments, more than £000 feet in height ; 
 these are a sort of calcareous tombs, of innumerable genera- 
 tions of marine animals of every description. 
 
 And thus, while I felt the influence of grace, beauty, order, 
 on the banks of the lake of Geneva, my wondering eye, filled 
 and charmed with the bright blooming colours of art, the bold 
 air and wild hydra forms of the Alps, overwhelmed my breast 
 w^ith a kind of gloomy night and Gothic horrors. 
 
 Descending from the heights of Gex, we arrived at Geneva 
 about sun-set, whence the silvered head of Mount Blanc, irra- 
 diated by the sun's departing beams, had all the appearance of 
 a brilliant illumination. But this gave way to other feelings 
 when we found ourselves among a people always distinguished 
 by an ardent love of liberty, in a country where, in the lan- 
 guage of the patriarch of Ferney, 
 
 On ne raepiise point les travanx necessaires, 
 liCS etats sont egaux, et les homines sont freres, 
 
 where contempt awaits not those whose hours are devoted to 
 labour, where no invidious barrier arises between rank and 
 talents, where, with a jealousy of individual power, the hap- 
 piness of the community is the hereditary feeling ! 
 
Journey from Park to Geneva, 5 
 
 I bid you adieu for the presenu Let the simple annals of 
 private life recorded in this short epistle^ pass for my intro- 
 duction. 
 
 LETTER IL 
 
 GENEVA, FERNEY, THE LAKE OF GENEVA, LAUSANNE, VEVEY. 
 
 What must a lover of Rousseau tell you, respecting his 
 country, that has not been repeated from one to another by 
 privilege of common-place and monotonous succession ? Let 
 me, however, give my opinion on the subject, as, if J do not 
 differ widely from others, I shall aim at being more clear and 
 distinct. 
 
 The city of Geneva is situated at the southern extremity of 
 the lake of that name. The Rhone, whose source is hid in the 
 mountains of St. Gothard, after v/atering all the plain of the 
 Valais, empties itself by several mouths into the same lake at 
 its northern extremity, and issuing from it at Geneva to con- 
 tinue its course, divides the city into two unequal parts. The 
 least considerable, which forms a sort of suburbs, is on the side 
 bordering France. In this part, the house is yet shewn where- 
 in the author of the Social Contract was born. At the entrance 
 of the threshold appears this modest inscription : " Ici est n^ 
 J. J. Rousseau — Here J. J. Rousseau was born," The street 
 wherein the humble dwelling is situated, has acquired the 
 name of Rue Rousseau. The house is at present tenanted by 
 a watch maker, the profession of Rousseau's father. 
 
 The other part of Geneva contains the public establishments, 
 and the finest buildings. The surface of the ground is not 
 every where level, and to proiiienade the interior parts of the 
 city will be attended with some fatigue. Ca3sar mentions 
 Geneva as an ancient city of the AUobroges ; he made it a 
 place of arms, and Charlemagne passed through it in 77^? when 
 inarching with an army into Italy. Clement Marot, when per- 
 secuted in his own country, fled hither as a refugee, in 1543, 
 eight years after Calvin's reformation. 
 
 Omitting historical details, it is sufficiently obvious that Ge- 
 neva is one of those places that abound most in instances of 
 literary fecundity. This mental industry, producing the hap- 
 piest effects, has been fully displayed, not without its due ce- 
 lebrity, in our days. In the admired performances of Saussure, 
 the correct productions of Bonnet, the indefatigable powers of 
 Pictet, with the extensive merits of Bourrit, and a multitude 
 
6 Montemont* a Tour over the Alps (uid in Italy, 
 
 of other eminent literati, extraordinary efforts of genius have 
 been exhibited. As to Rousseau, he is what he appears, all 
 originality, invention, and fertile imagination; his first thoughts, 
 formed with great facility, have reversed the usual notions and 
 ideas of mankind on points of political economy, and, notwith- 
 standing some extravagancies, the improvisatorial talents with 
 which he was gifted, enforced by vigour of conception, and bril- 
 liancy of diction, render the character which he has obtained 
 of the most durable kind. The delirium of love is carried to 
 its highest pitch, in the letters of Julia and St. Preux. 
 
 In this metropolis of Calvinism, there is a public library, a 
 museum, and a cathedral, which may be justly recommended 
 to attention; the character and genius of their objects appear 
 to be well consulted. The library contains 50,000 printed vo- 
 lumes, and 200 MSS. Here are 80 volumes of Calvin's sermons, 
 also certain homilies of St. Augustine, written in the sixth cen- 
 tury, on papyrus, and a fragment of the book of expenses of 
 Phillipe le Bel, of the year 1314. 
 
 The judicious arrangements of the museum make it a pleas- 
 ing and improving exercise for observation and study. It 
 comprehends five grand divisions — minerals, shells, birds, 
 antiques, and medals and paintings. On the second story are 
 apartments for a literary society, similar to the Royal Atheneum 
 of Paris. This forms a depository for all the various journals, 
 French, German, Italian, and English, with any compositions, 
 literary articles, &c. of real merit and celebrity, as they appear; 
 the library is select and very numerous. The liberal and en- 
 lightened members constantly favour the admission of foreigners 
 among them. I was introduced by M. de Chenevi^re, professor 
 of theology, and a minister of the reformed church. The vir- 
 tues, amiable manners, and established reputation of this gen- 
 tleman, ad a scholar, entitle him to an honourable testimony. 
 
 The cathedral is a large Gothic structure, containing a num- 
 ber of antique monuments. The steeple appears as a prominent 
 object ; from its elevation, the eye can survey the town at large, 
 with the whole immense sheet of the Leman Lake and its crys- 
 tal-like waters. On the east is seen the village of Carouge ; to 
 the south arise the Chain of the Alps, and Mount Blanc, which 
 last seems to lord it paramount over its allied hills, like the 
 Grand Signior over his mistresses and innumerable vassals. 
 Ifi the north we discover Ferney- Voltaire, and the mountains 
 of the Jura ; and at about a quarter of a league from Geneva, 
 the junction of the Rhone, and the Arvc, which last is a muddy 
 minor stream, and descends from Mount Blanc. 
 
 Those who visit Geneva will derive satisfaction from forming 
 an acquaintance with some of the higher classes, among whom 
 
Journey from Paris to Geneva, 7 
 
 be will find eminent men of various descriptions, though in 
 manners they are very plain. But nothing can exceed, in ils 
 proportion, the great mass of information residing in the mid- 
 dle ranks, nor are the lowest sunk into a state of ignorant 
 apathy. Their ancestors valued themselves on the advantages 
 of liberal discussion and extensive inquiry, and the present 
 generation are by no means disposed to resign them. 
 
 The citizens have never been backward in patronizing all 
 such inventions, for manufacturing purposes, as may seem to 
 be improvements in mechanics. The horological business, 
 or making of clocks and watches, continues to be a leading 
 object vi'ith them, and the Genevese spare no pains to merit 
 this kind of distinction. Connected with the arts is the hy- 
 draulic machine, which feeds and supplies the waters of the 
 town. The plans in relievo of the Alps, by M. Gaudin, cannot 
 be contemplated without a degree of wonder — a testimony of 
 approbation. Strangers who visit the botanic garden and the 
 new palace which adjoins it, as also the hall of spectacles, from 
 motives of curiosity, will reap utility as conjoined with it. In 
 a municipal point of view, their grande rue, or principal street, 
 is deserving of particular mention ; its timber arcades rise, like 
 a Gothic frontispiece, to the very roofs of the houses. 
 
 In the town itself is nothing very remarkable ; the grand 
 and permanent source of its opulence and prosperity* is the 
 activity and industry of its ingenious mechanics. The intel- 
 ligent traveller will enlarge his general plan of survey, by ex- 
 tending it to the environs ; here he may pursue a vein of 
 prospective discovery in a great variety of situations and points 
 of view. He will find charming promenades along the right 
 bank of the Leman Lake, and on the side of St. Jean. Near 
 the junction of the Rhone and the Arve, is the beautiful 
 country bouse of M. Constant, a relation of our celebrated 
 publicist, and at no great distance is the rural seat, Les Delices, 
 that was occupied for some time by Voltaire, before he re- 
 moved to Lausanne, and finally fixed at Ferney. 
 
 To enjoy the magnificent optical illusion of Mount Blanc 
 and its Glaciers, illumined by the setting sun, no spot can be 
 more favourable than a height between the village of Ferney 
 and that of Le Grand Saconney. In the evening of August 
 15, my companions and I had a fuller and more curious view 
 of that most interesting object than we had before anticipated, 
 \ye could not contemplate the scene without emotions that 
 excited a sort of soul-transporting enthusiasm. This fine day 
 had passed rapidly away in excursions to satisfy our curiosity^ 
 and we set out on our return to enjoy the convenience of rest 
 und refreshments after our fatigues. While night was over- 
 
8 Montemoni*s Tour over t/te Alps and in Italy, 
 
 shadowing us, we often heard the nightingale pouring forth ex- 
 quisite notes of her delicate, tender, animated composition. 
 
 Next day we went to visit Ferney, two little leagues from 
 Geneva. When Voltaire took possession of the property in 
 1759, here were only eight cottages ; at his death nearly a 
 hundred houses, built at his expense, covered the domain, oc- 
 cupied by more than twelve hundred inhabitants. He raised 
 also a manufactory of clocks and watches, and another of 
 earthenware, and procured an exemption from the visits of 
 the officers of the IJouane, 
 
 Here Voltaire afforded an asylum to Delille Uesalles, pro- 
 scribed for his Philosophie de la Mature : here he protected 
 Marmontel, a writer of great celebrity, but persecuted likewise 
 for that respectable publication, his Belisarius, in which he 
 alluded obliquely to the degenerate and profligate character of 
 some modern governments ; here was the retreat of the count 
 Morangies, robbed of his patrimony by usurers. Here also 
 Voltaire revived the memory of Galas, of Sirven, of Martin, of 
 Montbailly, and saved the wife of this last from the scaffold. 
 Here he supported his character, producing a bold and striking 
 apology for the unfortunate Lally, as also for Labarre, and for 
 12,000 Serfs depending on the canons of St. Claude, in Mount 
 Jura; here he portioned the grand niece of the great Corneille, 
 with a fortune of 90,000 francs, also the daughter of Madame 
 Dupuits with 100,000, and Belle et Bonne, when he married 
 her to the marquis de Villette, with 150,000. His old friend 
 Thiriot, after spending a year with him at Ferney, on his return 
 to Paris, found a purse of 50 Louis at the bottom of his trunk, 
 slipped in by Voltaire, and one day when the latter had been 
 to visit Madame Duj)uits, then lying-in, he contrived to leave 
 in her buffet a superb silver vase, wherein was a receipt for 
 12,000 francs that M. Dupuits owed him. A labouring man 
 of Ferney was in prison for 7^00 francs ; Voltaire had him re- 
 leased by paying the amount ; and when informed that this 
 man had a numerous family, and that it would be like throw- 
 ing money away, he made answer, "Money given in alms is 
 not thrown away, and here I am restoring a father to his fa- 
 mily, and a citizen to society." Another labouring man, who 
 was not of Ferney, having lost a law suit in the parliamentary 
 court of Besangon, in his despair had recourse to Voltaire, who 
 examined his papers, and finding his cause good, " Here," 
 said he, bringing three bags of a thousand francs each out of 
 his closet, " with these repair the injuries of justice; go to law 
 no more, and if you are willing to settle on my lands, 1 shall 
 make it my business to find you employn)ent." The Jesuits 
 of Ornex wished to round their territory, by purchasing land 
 
Journey from Paris to Geneva, 9 
 
 of some miners that was mortgaged for fifteen thousand francs. 
 The speculation would have been ruinous to the mining con- 
 cern, but Voltaire laid down the money for them to the bail- 
 liage of Gex, and thus rescued their patrimony from the 
 rapacity of the Jesuits. 
 
 The anniversary of St. Bartholomew was ever a day of 
 mourning with Voltaire, and on that day, as some will have it, 
 he was more or less subject to a fever. 
 
 We approached to the house of this great man with a sort 
 of homage, not unlike the pilgrims of Mecca before the tomb 
 of Mahomet. In due time we arrived at the chateau, and were 
 introduced into the apartments of the monarch of French lite- 
 rature. The bed-chamber and the saloon for receiving com- 
 pany, are just in the state wherein he left them, setting out for 
 Paris, where he died. We found, in his bed-chamber, portraits 
 of the following personages : — Frederick the Great, his early 
 friend ; Catherine 11., empress of Russia, embroidered in 
 needle work by herself ; Voltaire, at the age of thirty-four; 
 the marchioness de Chatelet, or the sublime Emilia; Le Kain, 
 the Talma of his day : more than one amateur had cutaway 
 pieces of the canvass to lay by as a relic ; Washington, with 
 this inscription in the hand of Voltaire — Ne quid detriment! 
 capiat respublica; Milton, Racine, J. Delille, with this verse 
 of Horace, inscribed by Voltaire — NuUi flebilior quam mihi, 
 Virgili ; Isaac Newton, who died in 1727> at the age of eighty- 
 five, a bachelor ever retaining his virginity ; Benjamin Frank- 
 lin, born at Boston in I7O6; Corneille, Marmontel, La Fayette, 
 the veteran votary of liberty in two hemispheres ; Pope Cle- 
 ment XIV, in 1769; Antoine Thomas, Helvetius, Mairan, 
 D'Alembert, le Due de Choiseul, and Leibnitz. At the bottom 
 of this last, Voltaire has placed this stanza : — 
 
 II fut dans I'univers^ connu par ses ouvrages, 
 Et dans son Pays meme^ il se fit respecter 3 
 II instruisit les Rois, il eclaira les Sages^ 
 Plus sage qu'eux, il sut douter. 
 
 His elaborate compositions were of first-rate merit, and the 
 world did honour to his genius and science. In his own coun- 
 try be was distinguished, and succeeded in a respectable de- 
 gree. Kings were instructed by his extraordinary learning, 
 and sages by his well-grounded notions in philosophy ; and 
 more especially in his valuable performances, he doubts of 
 many things that had received the stamp of authority, herein 
 wiser than those who, wedded to an opinion, will never resign 
 upon knowledge or good reason. 
 
 Over a canopy appears ** Mes manes sont consoles, puisque 
 VoYAGBs and Travels, ZVo. LI, Vol. IX. C 
 
1^ Muntemwifs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 mon Cosur est au milieu de voUs,*' and over a sort of uni, " Suii 
 esprit est partoat, et son Ca3ur est ici/' It is the same image 
 or sentiment, differently appr'opriated, denoting that his heart 
 is here; but this is no h)nger the case, as the marchioness de 
 Villette has it in her possession. 
 
 The portraits here specified shew the diversified manour 
 wherein Voltaire indulged his taste. This indulgence fornjs 
 one of the most elegant of literary recreations. Of his well- 
 informed mind, the verses which he addrc'ss<^d, in 1736, to M. 
 de la Koque, editor of the Mercure de France, give good 
 evidence. 
 
 V^ers eiichauteurs, exactc prose, 
 
 .Te nc me borne point a vous, 
 
 N'avoir qu'un gout, c'est peude de chobe^ 
 
 Beaux arts, je vdus invoque tous : 
 
 Musique, danse", architecture. 
 
 Art de graver, docte peiutnre. 
 
 Que vous ui'inspirez de desirs ! 
 
 Beaux arts ! vous etes des plaisirs, 
 
 II n'en est point qu on doive exclure. 
 
 , '"■': (Temple du Gout. J 
 
 -Hereid Voltaire disjilaj^s the riches of Ifis imagination ; his 
 genius embraces not merely the individual interests of poetry; 
 his soul is elevated to comprehend the entire niass of the fine 
 arts, music, sculpture, &c., and the philosopher who possesses 
 sensibility will see how his expansive mind knew how to emn 
 hellish topics suitable to his taste and character. . » 
 
 From the terrace of the garden, we have a prominent view 
 of Mount Blanc. In the garden there runs an alley, a quarter 
 of a league in length, edged witli poplars; Voltaire promenaded 
 in it occasionally, but was most partial to an avenue, hedged 
 with a particular sort of elm-trees. There was a little cottage, 
 wherein he spent much of his time, but it is replaced by a plan- 
 tation of trees. 
 
 Voltaire's gardener is still living. He has by him a collec- 
 tion of seals from the letters of his master's correspondents; 
 underneath, for amusement^ he would put the names of those 
 correspondents. Under som\?, in lieu of the names, he put the 
 word " fous, childish, silly." • Wftcn a letter came, he com- 
 pared the seal with that on his register ; if there was an evi- 
 dent identity, and the fatal epithet appeared, he sent back the 
 letter to the post ofiice without opening it. 
 
 This old gardener has also in his [)ossessiou, Voltaire's bon- 
 net, set with a gold border by Madame Denis. The mar- 
 chioness de Villette, with strict propriety named /« Belle ct 
 
Journey from Paris to Geneva. 1 1 
 
 Bonne, has the night gown, and the great armed chair wherein 
 he used to read and write. 
 
 Jn front of his chateau is a church, which he was at the 
 charge of erecting. On the facade we read the following in- 
 scription : — Deo erexit Voltaire. On the outside, annexed to 
 one of the walls of the temple, is the tomb which he had pre- 
 pared for himself. 
 
 Every object that we saw reminded us of the useful prin- 
 ciples which that celebrated man displayed in action, and 
 which the following lines discover, having appeared in some 
 of his writings :— 
 
 J'ai fait un peu de bien ; c'est mon meilleur ouvrage, 
 Mon sejour est charmant, mais il etoit sauvage j 
 Depuis le grand edit, inculte^ inhabit^, 
 lgnor6 des humains, dans sa triste beaut6. 
 La nature y mouroit, Je hii portai la vig 
 J'osai ranimer tout. Ma penible Industrie 
 Rassembla des colons, par la misere epars^ 
 J'appellai les metiers qui precedent les arts ; 
 Et pour mieux ciraenter mon utile er.treprise, 
 J'unis le protestant avec ma sainte Eglise. 
 
 Here the author, with the frankness of a philosopher, deve- 
 lopes certain truths. A person endowed with such a mind, 
 finding no satisfaction in countries where princes are unceas- 
 ingly occupied in politics, hostile to the interests of their sub- 
 jects, irritated at the stupor in which the latter are too often 
 plunged, this remarkable man, whose head is replete with 
 energy and sensibility, withdraws himself from a sphere un- 
 suitable to a thinking being, and retires to a simple and happy 
 solitude, to discharge the functions of his self-appointed office, 
 that of doing good. 
 
 Voltaire did every thing in his power to decorate his new 
 semibarbarous situation, with all the philanthropic succours of 
 which it stood in need. Facts mark his temper and genius 
 more distinctly than a laboured character. Touched by the 
 art of genius, a new creation appeared around him, exhibited 
 in all the beautiful variety of which the scene was capable. In 
 lieu of a waste and lonely gloom, emerging groves robed in 
 green, and habitations, the asylum of calm domestic life — feed- 
 ing flocks, flowers, living waters, and waving blades of corn, 
 ► spring up like an enchanting vision. His was the nobler part 
 of generous friendship, to soothe the anguish of sorrow, to 
 beam chearing smiles round the bed of aflfliction, to pour con- 
 solation where sickness and grief vented their moanings. It 
 was his, too, blessing and blessed, to rear the pile, the altar 
 around which a Christian throng might bend in holy prayer — 
 
12 Montemonfs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 be taught to renew the purer heaven-atoning rites of justic 
 peace, immortal mercy, and all the angel train of charities. 
 
 I have since seen at Paris, preserved by the marchioness de 
 Villette, the bed gown, and the gold-laced waistcoat, long worn by 
 Voltaire, as also the crown of laurel adjudged to him at the Thea- 
 tre Francois,m 1778j and the great chair with a writing table and 
 moveable desk attached to it, wherein he often sat. 
 
 At length we quitted Ferney and returned to Geneva, to make a 
 tour of the lake in a boat, and survey its beauties nearer. It is 18 
 leagues in length, but would only be 14, were it in a straight line. 
 Its greatest breadth is about 3 leagues ; near Vevey, in the environs 
 of Meillerie, it is 950 feet in depth. The lake never freezes. Its 
 eastern part, or that where the town of Lausanne is situated, is 
 the most interesting. It is fifteen leagues from Vevey to 
 Geneva, but boats, with a favourable wind, will make the passage 
 in four hours. The air is remarkably pure on the banks of the 
 Leman; it has a sort of flux and reflux depending on the variation 
 of the atmosphere, and its pressure. 
 
 Lausanne, capital of the Canton de Vaud, buttressed, as it were, 
 to three hills on the banks of this lake, enjoys a very fine climate, 
 and presents a landscape, wherein the eye may, for ever, trace 
 some new found undiscovered charm. Here are a library, an 
 academy, colleges, two gazettes, &c, Tissot, a celebrated physi- 
 cian, lived here from 1770 to 177^*; Voltaire, from 1757 to 1-759, 
 and Haller at the same time. M. Ebel assures us, that the 
 great Haller would not visit the author of the Henriade. To be 
 in want of the sanction derived from the good opinion of others is 
 an evil, but I presume that many, like myself, will dispute the 
 justness of that sentiment, which prompted the great Haller to 
 such conduct; I have ever hitherto considered it, as an act illi- 
 beral and injudicious. 
 
 The same M. Ebel supplies us with another anecdote, which it 
 may be useful to detail, remarking, at the same time, that the 
 agents in it have a much better right to censure and disgrace. 
 In 1479, the Bishop of Lausanne and his Chapter cited with due 
 formality, before their tribunal, the May bugs^ that were then very 
 troublesome, and as they did not obey the order, they were ad- 
 judged contumacious, excommunicated, and banished from the 
 diocese of Lausanne. According to report, the original act of 
 this sentence is preserved with the greatest care. 
 
 The ancient parliament of Paris brought themselves into do less 
 disrepute, when, by an arret of February 7, 1:^14, they confirmed 
 the decision of the Judges of the county de Valois, who, on the 
 deposition of witnesses, had condemned a bull to be hanged for 
 goring a young man to death with his horns. 
 
 It is with regret we observe the tendency of such superstition, 
 
Journey from Paris to Geneva, Vn 13 
 
 but I recollect another circumstance which will represent it in the 
 most disgusting light. In Greece, when inundating rivers, at 
 times, carry away the harvest, the inhabitants present a formal re- 
 quest to the Judge, that he would lay an injunction on the inso- 
 lent stream to withdraw within its channel. A sentence is pre- 
 sently pronounced, in favour of the petitioners, but if the waters 
 still keep rising, the Cadi, accompanied by the complainants, 
 repairs to the scene of desolation and throws a copy of the juri- 
 dical Act at the rebel current. The people then hurl invectives 
 at the water, shoot at it with vollies of stones, pay the fees of the 
 court, and entertain no doubt on the subject of the effect to be 
 produced, thus betraying the decision of idiots. 
 
 The little town of Vevey is placed in a situation more agree- 
 able than even that of Lausanne. Here nature displays a new 
 plan and larger map of the Lake, with the rocks of Meillerie, 
 noticed by Rousseau, the mountains of the Valais, and the glaciers 
 of St. Bernard, including other points of view, characterised by 
 sweetness and novelty. 
 
 Let us now return to Geneva, which is the Paris of Switzerland. 
 It is not doing more than justice to the inhabitants to affirm, that 
 they discover much of that spirit of freedom which distinguishes 
 the present race of Frenchmen. In private life, the general cast 
 of their manners is smooth, easy, and interesting. Striking spe- 
 cimens of science, taste, and genius ; of diversified ingenuity 
 well judged, and excellently managed, with some strong marks 
 and symptoms of a pleasing experienced affability, every where 
 offer themselves to observation. Here are no poor to be seen, 
 every one is employed, and there is employment for every one. 
 If I were to point out the least excellent part of their character, 
 they are too closely bent on the utcunque Rem. To get rich, better 
 his fortune, and promote his family interest, is the motto of the 
 Genevese — " Let those be Spartans, he says, that will." 
 
 Here I am constrained to leave tliem, and to stop my career — 
 you will find more ample details respecting Geneva, in the letters 
 of a recent traveller, M. Raoul-Rochette, wha has studied their 
 society, under all the various aspects which arise from the differ- 
 ent degrees of its civilization, and from the influence of their 
 ijrovernment. 
 
■■^- 
 
 1^ Montemont' s Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 FROM GENKVA TO CHAMOUNY BY BONNEVILLK. — CLUZE, THE 
 VALLEY OF MAGLAN. — A VAUCLUSIAN SPRING. — THE BATHS. 
 AND CASCADE OF ST. OtRVAIS. — THE LAKES, &C. OP CHKDB. 
 THE GLACIER OF LeS BoSSOUS, AND THE VALLEY AND VILLAGE 
 OF CHAMOUNY. 
 
 A DILIGENCE conducted us from Geneva to Sallenche, that is, 
 about twO'thirus of the way to Cnamouny ; we pass by Bonne- 
 ville and Cluze. Bonneville is a little town of Savoy, situated 
 on the Arve, about five leagues from Geneva, at the southern 
 foot of the mountain called le Mole, The village of Cluze is 
 about three leagues further on, at the foot of woods and rocks 
 extremely picturesque. Here the face and forms of nature exhi- 
 bit a curious contrast; in one part peaceful groves, and all those 
 charms of softness which please and captivate the eye, in another 
 dire ruins of majestic sternness, monstrous uncouth shapes of 
 rent and fallen rocks, which fill the traveller with a pensive 
 melancholy as he espies them ; the scene here glowing with 
 bright colours, there consigned to blank confusion, and terrific to 
 behold. Could a kindred genius, his taste classical and conge- 
 nial to the landscape, trace it with his pencil, it would exhibit 
 beauties to discover and study, blended with objects, in the same 
 proportion, the most austere and hideous. 
 
 We next enter the valley of Maglan, bordered with steep rocks, 
 often well wooded and sometimes naked and bare. Every now 
 and then appear patches cultivated^ and sprinkled with dairy 
 houses, holding provisions for the winter, and so contrived as to 
 contain the cattle during the fair season. Such haunts as these, 
 remote from noise and strife, mad ambition would never be tempt- 
 ed to roam in— the tranquil heart only will seek the spot, and call 
 it his home. 
 
 Is there any happiness in solitude ? Milton says, 
 
 —Who can enjoy alone, 
 
 Or all enjoying, what contentment find ? 
 
 Had he visited this spot he would perhaps have tarried and 
 loved to rest here. 
 
 Numberless are the sinuosities in the valley of Maglan, through 
 which, with its rocks descending to their base, thesir tops seeming 
 to reach the clouds, from the novelty of the imagery and local 
 scenery, the traveller advances, apprehensive that he shall find no 
 outlet. 
 
 The Arve, a stream which waters this valley, at times inundates 
 
Journey from Geneva to Chamouny, 15 
 
 the vvliole plain, foaming, dashing, and raging against the road, 
 with his oozy billows ; and at other times withdraws his wide waters. 
 
 Near the village of Maglan, above the hamlet of La Balme, 
 we perceive the etitrance of a grotto, that penetrates to the depth 
 of 6'20 feet into the bowels of the mountain. We find also, just 
 before arriving at the village, close to the road side, a spring of 
 water remarkably limpid and no less cooling. It issues in such 
 abundance as to form a little river, which falls into the Arve a 
 little lower down. It forms a miniature of the fountain of Vau- 
 cluse, with this difference, that the latter is hid, but this is un- 
 covered and open. 
 
 In the stime place is an echo, startling the traveller from a 
 hundred giant voices, that seem to grow out of it, repeating the 
 same sound. The rocks resound as with the report of a pistol, 
 while the strolling reverberation trails its slow length along. 
 
 Further on, to the left, is a magnificejit cascade, the waters of 
 which fall from a height of 800 feet. Its detached, features cor- 
 respond with the general character of the' valley, and enhance the 
 etfect of the leading circumstances. As an accompaniment, may 
 be added, that its murmurs were audible all the way to Sallenche. 
 This is a little town on the left bank of the Arve ; here we 
 changed our voitures to take caravans, or mules, for the village 
 of Chamouny. Sallenche lie^ in a vast bason, whence we have a 
 very distinct view of the silvered crest of Mount Blanc. Both the 
 poetical and the common traveller would be surprised at the sub- 
 limity with which its highest part soars to the heavens, as if it 
 could not descend an inch below the sun, moon, and stars. 
 
 About a league beyond Sallenche we arrive at the baths of St. 
 Gervais, sequestered in the bottom of a valley, agreeably ov^er- 
 shaded with larch trees. Close to the buildings, the Bonhomme, 
 a turbid boisterous torrent, pours a flood of whitish-coloured 
 waters, and behind them is a fall of the stream, forming a grand 
 cascade, the most interesting, perhaps, in* all the Alps. Ap- 
 proaching to near the fall, we feel a sudden chiinge of tempera- 
 ture ', a gentle warmth arising from thermal waters in the 
 vicinity alternating with the cold effluvia of the falling spray. 
 The descent is about 300 feet, rushing down with such violence 
 that the leaves of the trees round about are shaken. 
 
 For about half a league the darksome torrent rolls through a 
 hollow channel, sunk two hundred feet deep among rocks; each 
 side is fringed with a wood of larch trees. At the summit of the 
 cascade appears, on the right, a well-turfed parterre, surrounded, 
 as in a plantation, with forest trees. 
 
 Both I and my companions were eager to multiply our com- 
 parisons, and seeing that nature was lavishing her stores in 
 this climate, we could not miss the opportunity of visiting the 
 
|(^ MontemonCs Tour over tfie Alps and in Italy, 
 
 beautiful cascade of Chede, on the left of the Chamouny road. 
 Its limpid waters, in the reflection of the sun's rays, will exhibit, to 
 those who brush the morning dew, a very beautiful rainbow. 
 
 Half a league farther on is the charming little lake of Chede, 
 in the pleasing scene of whose surface the azure sky again 
 gaily smiles, while the gloomy shades of the neighbouring moun- 
 tains yield a prospect of sterner magnificence. 
 
 Next appears an agreeable troop of children, with smiling 
 complaisai)ce and songs, offering us cooling draughts out of 
 their cups. Innocence was in their looks, the boys presenting 
 the pure crystal liquid, the girls milk and cream, with such a 
 grace that we found it hard to resist them. Such offers as these 
 we had for four or five leagues, as far as to the village of Cha- 
 mouny. One of my companions yielded to their solicitations 
 more than twenty times. We repaid their complaisance, which 
 was not wholly disinterested, with several little pieces of money. 
 
 A little beyond the lake last mentioned, the traveller should 
 visit the bridge of goats, thrown over the foaming waves of the 
 Arve. Four rams, I think, might pass in front, but if two men 
 should meet on it and neither would retire, they must both fall 
 into the water and make food for fishes. At a little distance 
 from this bridge, as antiquarians report, there was a flourishing 
 town in the time of the Romans, but the traces of it are as hard 
 to ascertain as those of Nineveh and Babylon. 
 
 A lengthened ledge of cascades, formed by the Arve, beyond 
 this bridge, in a wild savage retreat, almost as free as nature first 
 made it, gives a picturesque effect very well deserving atten- 
 tion. Near it still appear the ruins of a mountain, the whole of 
 which fell down in 17^1, and overwhelmed the valley to the dis- 
 tance of five leagues. As a sjfectacle of destruction, a great 
 •part of it was of a melancholy air, but after happily clearing a 
 dangerous piece of water, called the Black Torrent (very properly 
 so denominated) we. came, in time to breakfast, at Sorvez, where 
 are gold and silver mines. 
 
 In the subterranean of one of these mines, on the side next 
 Arve, a noise of water is heard, which might be cited as a com- 
 prehensive instance of all that is dreadful in the catalogue of 
 sounds. Thunder, or the perpetual confusion of a raging tem- 
 pest tearing from the mountain's height a ponderous mass of 
 rocks, would produce an effect infinitely inferior. Had Dante 
 been a witness of all the horrors that decorate the scene, he 
 would, doubtless, have placed it at the entrance of his infernal 
 regions. Our guide would by no means let us descend far into 
 the vast labyrinth, his courage seemed to fail him. Amongst 
 other Wghly unpleasant circumstances which he detailed, as con- 
 joined with the frightful tumult, din, and uproar, was the frequent 
 
Journey from Geneva to Chamouny, 17 
 
 falling of stones from the vaulted roof, which might have accele- 
 rated our end, as in the case of the king of Epirus. We follow- 
 ed his advice, however, like simple mortals, who value their own 
 lives more than that of any king in tlie world. 
 
 It is time now to tell you of our arrival at Chamouny, hut I must 
 stop a little to bring into notice another of the disasters to which 
 human life is exposed. Young Eschen, a Saxon poet, who as 
 such had undoubted claims to superior honour, in the year 1800 
 fell a victim to his courage, in a crevice of the Glaciers of Buet, 
 obstinately disregarding the advice of his guide. At the moment 
 when the latter was exclaiming, for the last time, *^ Arretez, 
 stop," the unfortunate youth disappeared, plunging into a dark 
 gulf, which a recent fall of snow had mlasqued from his view. 
 
 From Sorvez to the valley of Chamouny the distance is a small 
 league. Nearly the whole of it is an ascent, with the Arve in 
 view rolling its waves under the long, high, steep brows and 
 ridges of those rude irregular eminences that overhang its banks. 
 We could see through the firs and green swarth with which their 
 dark flanks are garnished. I can but notice what came immedi- 
 ately under our observation ; a drawing of the scene would most 
 fully describe the principal subjects of our attention and wonder. 
 
 On quitting a little wood and entering some meadows, we 
 found ourselves in tlie valley of Chamouny. From these 
 meadows it reaches about six leagues, nearly in a right line, to 
 the Col de Balme, on the frontiers of the Valais. It includes 
 several villages, thechief of which has the name of Priory of Cha- 
 mouny, from a convent of Benedictines, established in 1099, one 
 hundred and odd years after the foundation of the Hospitium of 
 Great St. Bernard. We pass through the villages of Les Onclies 
 and Bossons, above which last appears the beautiful Glacier of 
 the same name, at the foot of Mount Blanc. The ardent votary 
 of nature should pay it a transient visit, as its superb and beauti- 
 ful pyramids of ice, fantastically coloured by the sun*s rays, and 
 viewed through the firs, look like a sea of glass with its smiling 
 gay reflections, and are admirably calculated to claim attention. 
 Fancy, in its wildest strains, could not aspire to ornaments more 
 delightful and cheerful, than what an extensive view of the 
 situation commands. 
 
 We arrive next, 'in about half an hour, at the priory ; that is, 
 at the village of Chamouny, situated on the Arve, between Mount 
 Blanc and Mount Breven, in the centre of the valley. This last 
 IS' diversified with woods, meadows, cultivated fields and glaciers. 
 Chamouny is the usual place of departure and return, when 
 travellers make excursions to Mount Blanc or the surrounding 
 mountains. The village contains about 300 houses. ^ We saw 
 
 Voyages and Travels No, LI, Vol. IX. D 
 
18 Montemont's Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 here two cabinets of minerals and birds, includiog several 
 chamois, with some livintj young wild goats. 
 
 Chamouny is 3174 feet above the level of the sea. The winter 
 lasts here nine months ; in the height of summer they are often 
 obliged to kindle fires, the air and its keen blasts are so piercing. 
 Excellent honey is produced here, and the mountains afford pas- 
 tare for chamois and wild goats. The lower parts of the valley 
 are well turfed with grass, and feed a great number of cattle. 
 Nature, as if to indemnify the inhabitants for the length and 
 sharpness of their winter, confers on their fields and meadows 
 greater powers of vegetation than in our plains. What they sow 
 in June they reap the product of in August. What takes five or 
 six months to ripen throughout Burgundy, is effected in three, 
 in the valley of Chamouny. As the snow falls in large quantities 
 in winter, the inhabitants, to melt it the sooner, cover it with a 
 black earth, this colour being a better conductor of caloric, and 
 absorbing more heat than white. In the fine season, such of the 
 men as are able to work, repair to the lower countries in quest of 
 employment; the women and old men guard the cattle, and 
 labour on the lands. They make their bread to last a year or 
 eighteen months, according to the quantum of their harvests. 
 In winter, the stables serve both for dining and sleeping rooms. 
 A partition is allotted for the cattle, and the rest is occupied by 
 those of the household. The windows are mostly of paper well 
 soaked in oil. On All Saints Day, the people generally kill a cow 
 and a pig, and keep the flesh in salt for Sundays and occasional 
 festivals, living on other days on milk and potatoes. A singular 
 custom prevails here in the mode of their courtship, having the 
 appearance of eccentricity. Ten or a dozen years are lost amidst 
 the wildering mazes of platonic affection ; during the nine months 
 of winter, the professed lovers play at cards and other amuse- 
 ments, that with variety may give a little power over the passions. 
 Sometimes instances occur of early marriages, but they are very 
 rare, A girl that should fail herein would be sure to have a nick- 
 name fastened on her, that would leave an indelible stain on her 
 character. It is very difficult to account for these peculiarities. 
 Parisians dames, I would, on many accounts, particularly recom- 
 mend to you not to let that subject of delight, your personal at- 
 tractions, grow dulled by age, as at Chamouny. Here, however^ 
 I must stop for a few days, having other excursions in view. 
 
Journey from Geneva to Chamoimy, 1^ 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 MOUNT BLANC, ITS GLACIERS AND AVALANCHKS. 
 
 There are objects that impose on the visual organs, such as 
 those La Fontaine refers to, De loin c'est quelque chose, et de pr^s, 
 ce n'est rien ; that is, giants at a distance but dwarfs near hand. 
 Just as in common life affectation or pedantry may be mistaken 
 for erroneous dignity, or classic lore, but, with a little familiarity, 
 they soon degenerate into tinsel pertness and clumsiness. But 
 nature, in producing Mount Blanc, has furnished a sample of the 
 true and great sublime, so comprehensive and expressive as to 
 afford a type of majesty in all its qualities and possible shades, 
 exhibited in the scale of still increasing gradation. It is not 
 without a degree of terror, mingled with surprise and admiration, 
 just as when the mind is full of any great event, that the eye 
 measures the aerial throne of this Alpine sovereign resting on 
 mountains of ice, as old as Time, 
 
 Mount Blanc rises to the height of 14,700 feet above the level 
 of the sea. The Chimborago, in America, rises to 19,302 feet, 
 but no mortal has ever yet reached its summit, unless, perhaps, 
 we except M. de Humboldt. Mount Blanc has, several times, 
 been felicitously scaled ; its elevation above Chamouny is 300 feet 
 more than that of ChimboraQo above its dependant valley of 
 Tapis. 
 
 The summit of Mount Blanc has acquired the name of the 
 Dromedary's Back, from a sort of lengthened bunch or ridge run- 
 ning from east to west in a direction nearly horizontal, and very 
 narrow at its highest part. It gets wider as it descends easterly, 
 and forms, in the west, a kind of front roof. 
 
 On the side of Italy Mount Blanc is inaccessible; the descent 
 is so steep that snow and ice cannot lodge in it. On the side of 
 Savoy the mountain has gentle declivities, and discovers his 
 flanks covered with eternal glaciers that descend down to the 
 valley of Chamouny. 
 
 Although it would be scarcely two leagues in a bird's flight 
 from the village of Chamouny to the summit, it requires, at least, 
 ten hours' march to reach it ; dangerous passages are to be avoided 
 by winding circuits, and there are 11,520 feet to ascend. The 
 journey will take up three or four days, and sometimes more, if 
 overtaken by bad weather. A number of unsuccessful trials had 
 been made before the exploit was achieved by an intrepid peasant 
 of the village, named Jacques Balmat, and by a physician of the 
 same village, named Paccard. It was in 1786 that they scaled 
 the prodigious ascent, and thus could assume the merit of being 
 the first mortals that had ever succeeded in the enterprize. 
 
20 3£ontemonfs Tour over the Alps, and i?i Italy, 
 
 M. de Saussure, a celebrated naturalist, was equally fortunate 
 the year following ; he was the first that made scientific experi- 
 ments on the cimex of that immense aggregate of rocks and ice. 
 
 To engage in the hazardous undertaking, one should be inured 
 to a mountainous region, and be able to contemplate the most 
 frightful abysses with sang froid. Provisions for 4 or 5 days will 
 be requisite, as tempestuous weather may occasion delays in the 
 passage. There should be also a ladder to scale the crevices of 
 the glaciers, and ropes that, when tied together, may form a line 
 of communication. Without this precaution, it would be running 
 a tremendous risque of stumbling into precipices concealed by 
 the snow, and formed by the chinks of the glaciers. At making 
 the least false step, the traveller would lose his presence of mind, 
 and perhaps slide from one depth to another, to the base of the 
 mountain, or disappear in one of the gulfs that might be near 
 where he fell. Black crape is also necessary to cover the face 
 with, while the sun is darting his rays on the ice, or we might 
 incur the risk of losing our sight, and having the face well nigh 
 excoriated, from the force of the solar beams. Nor is this all ; 
 there must be shoes with large and very sharp-pointed nails, as 
 also a hatchet to make holes in the ice, for the feet to catch in, 
 where the descent is rapid, and large staves pointed with iron, to 
 bear ourselves up in the ascent, and still more in the descent. 
 Also a tent to lodge in on the ice, for at the distaace of three 
 leagues from Chamouny, in a gradual scaling of the colossus, we 
 have a series of glaciers to the cimex. 
 
 After the first journey we sleep on the ice, at the foot of rocks 
 that are called " The Great Mules." This is after clearing a 
 dangerous glacier, abounding with crevices. It is not above a 
 quarter of a league to the highest part of this glacier, and yet it 
 will take up, sometimes, three tedious hours to accomplish the 
 feat in. 
 
 Next day we proceed to one of the shoulders of Mount Blanc, 
 called Ic Dome du Goute\ Near it M. de Saussure fixed his tent 
 in the snow, at the height of 5790 feet above the level of the sea, 
 and 540 feet higher than the Peak of Teneriffe. 
 
 On the tliird day we begin to scramble up to the last plateau. 
 Here great caution is called for, as there are a number of rapid 
 descents, with crevices in the glaciers, hid by recent falls of snow. 
 The nearer we approach the highest point, the air becomes more 
 rarefied, or, in other terms, the more the azote gas predominates^ 
 the more the oxygenated diminishes, or grows subtile. We cannot 
 advance ten paces together, without stopping to take breath ; but 
 when the summit is gained, the fertile and active mind, unchecked 
 in its career, contemplates the dimensions of space, expanded ia 
 a high degree, and from the situation and characteristic circum- 
 
Journey from Geneva to Chamouny» 21 
 
 stances, becomes susceptible of tbe strongest sensations, and 
 most lasting impressions. The horizon is immense, the eye being 
 lost in its endless range. 
 
 When the air is clear, we can see to the distance of 68 leagues. 
 From Lyons and Langres, about 65 leagues distant, in aright line, 
 the cimex may be distinctly marked ; and M. de Saussure thinks 
 he has had a glimpse of it from the heights of an eminence near 
 Toulon. M. Bourrit is confident, that from the top of Mount 
 Blanc he has recognised some parts of the Mediterranean. 
 
 The wind here is uncommonly sharp, and the cold insupport- 
 able, but descending a little to the south, the temperature is not 
 disagreeable. As M. de Saussure observes, if shelter can be 
 obtained from the direct impetus of the wind, it will not be felt. 
 This is reversed in the plain, for though sheltered from its direct 
 action, you feel its reflection ; dense air has the effect of re-per- 
 cussion on the wind, which air rarefied has not. As we approach 
 the top the air gets dryer, and we are teazed with a sort of un- 
 quenciiable thirst. Melted snow will only add to it, and the only 
 resource is melted ice, the water of which will be very potable. 
 
 On this elevation the appetite loses its relish, and prepared pro- 
 visions fall into a congealed state. We respire with difficulty, 
 and the pulse beats as quick again as in the plain. The train of 
 epicures, with Vitellius at their head, would here feel an unac- 
 countable aversion to wine and strong liquors. The sky, here, is 
 of a darker blue than in the plain. This circumstance gave rise 
 to a sudden fright in the guides of M. de Saussure ; when drawing 
 near the top, the heavens appeared dusky, seen through a sort of 
 embrasure, on a height which they had reached. They started 
 back, taking it for a vast gulf yawning before them. 
 
 From the great purity and transparency of tbe air, the stars 
 may be seen by day-light, if the head be well covered and shaded. 
 But, as if uncongenial with the human frame, we feel uneasiness, 
 a general lassitude prevails, with a want of sleep, an ardent fever, 
 and sometimes fainting fits. 
 
 There are many who cannot ascend to above yoOO feet. Mules, 
 at the height of 10,000 feet, on the mountains, feel so stifled, 
 that they utter plaintive moanings. Animals do not force nature, 
 voluntarily, but man forces his, to make experiments and discove- 
 ries, or to gratify his vanity. We travellers might have some in 
 our sack, but we felt not its weight, fur vaLiity is light. 
 
 At the height of 15,000 feet, under the equator, as M. Ebel 
 reports, any violent exercise will produce fainting : and those 
 who rise to upwards of 17,400 feet, will bleed at the eyes, lips, 
 and gums. 
 
 On the cimex of Mount Blanc, wc find no traces of any animals. 
 
22 Montemont's Tour over the Alps, and in Italy, 
 
 M. Saussure, who stopped here four hours and a half, saw only a 
 couple of butterflies passing by him. 
 
 Sound is very much impaired, the rarity of the air diminishing 
 its elasticity, and the force of its vibrations. An echo is scarcely 
 perceptible ; the explosion of a well-loaded pistol would give a 
 report not louder than that of a pop-gun in an apartment. 
 
 in these mountains it is the descending winds that bring fair 
 weather; the ascending prelude to rain and tempests. 
 
 You may well imagine that glaciers enter, as a capital ingre- 
 dient, into an account of Mount Blanc, and have obtained a part of 
 its renown. Those of Mount Blanc, like all others of the Alps, 
 are formed by vast masses of snow, that have imbibed water, 
 which becomes congealed in the winter. The figure of these 
 enormous masses depends on the surface whereon they rest. If 
 the soil is a rough declivity, the clefts are numerous, and the 
 glacier will be like the waves of the sea. If it is a valley, pretty 
 level and even, with a gentle declination, the crevices will be few. 
 
 In winter, a profound silence reigns among the glaciers ; but 
 in spring and summer frightful noises are sometimes heard, 
 attended with vast concussions, that shake the mountain. Every 
 fresh crevice is formed with a noise accompanying it like that of 
 thunder. It is the frequent renovation of these clefts that renders 
 the glaciers so dangerous to the traveller. 
 
 From the crevices issue frequent currents of a very cold air, that 
 carry along with them small particles of ice, and scatter them at 
 a distance, just like flakes of snow. 
 
 Every where among the glaciers, the murmuring of dashing 
 waters is heard, working passages through the walls of ice. Some- 
 times we light on wells of a circular form, wrought out vertically, 
 and filled with water to the brim. 
 
 The forms of the glaciers get renewed every month, and if any 
 stone or other substance falls into their crevices, it is soon dis- 
 gorged, and thrown back to the edge of the glacier. 
 
 There are many, however, whose surface is impure and blackish, 
 in this respect varying from the rest; it proceeds from the ruins 
 of rocks that the avalanches drag along with them ; in decompo- 
 sition they turn to a slimy or muddy earth. In the course of time 
 the stones are often thrown out of the glacier, or finally form a 
 sort of hills, arising, sometimes, to a hundred feet in height. And 
 very often the astonishing force of the glaciers reduces these very 
 heaps of stones to a sort of sand and gravel, from thtf compres- 
 sion which they undergo between the ice and the rocks of the 
 mountains. The ice is not compact, like that ^f rivers and lakes ; 
 it consists of pieces and grains, several inches in length and 
 thickness. Their forms arc tortuous and odd, and they so dove- 
 
Journey from Geneva to Chamouny» 23 
 
 tail into one another, that there is no detaching them from the 
 mass but by breaking several. Hence they acquire a sort of 
 movement, as in the articulations of a limb or member. It is 
 an undulating movement, wherein the lower part comes upper- 
 most, and vice versa. 
 
 At the bottom of the glaciers there appear a sort of vaulted 
 archways, which serve as a passage to carry off the waters. They 
 get formed in the winter, but are cleared away when the snow 
 melts. The water is of a whitish blue, and retains its colour for 
 several leagues, if other streams do not mingle with it. 
 
 From Mount Blanc to the Tyrol 400 glaciers have been counted, 
 which might, says M. Ebel, form a sea of ice, of more than a 
 hundred square leagues. 
 
 The avalanches, so common where there are glaciers, consti- 
 tute, likewise, one of the most imposing curiosities of the Alps. 
 These add an interest, though of a melancholy tendency, because 
 the chilling impartiality of their history records catastrophes 
 occasioned by them, the superior impression of which is still left. 
 The falls of snow, known by this name, exhibit a phenomenon 
 no less terrible than extraordinary 3 they take place in winter, 
 spring, and summer. 
 
 The winter avalanches are formed of flakes of fresh snow, which, 
 detached by the winds, and falling along the rocks, increase to a 
 frightful volume, and then roll to the bottom of the valleys, drag-, 
 ging along trees and rocks, and changing the course of waters. 
 The winter avalanche, formed of fresh snow, and not hard, is not 
 so dangerous as that of the spring. 
 
 This latter is composed of masses of compact snow, that get 
 loose from the rocks, in a thaw. From their weight, or from the 
 impetuous rage of Winds, they tumble, with extreme violence, into 
 the lower parts, sometimes overwhelming whole forests, and 
 covering an -entire valley with their ruins. The ringing of a bell, 
 or the sound of a voice, the least noise would give them an im-« 
 pulse, and precipitate their fall. In the places where they appear, 
 the traveller must walk quick, and with the greatest silence, set- 
 ting out early, before the sun has softened the snows. There is 
 no describing the force of the spring and winter avalanches ; the 
 air, in their fall, receives so violent a percussion, that sometimes 
 cottages are overset, and men thrown down and stifled, at consi- 
 derable distances. 
 
 The summer avalanches only take place on the highest parts 
 of the mountains. In their fall they might be taken for a river of 
 crystal, pouring down abruptly, with a cloud of fine snow sur- 
 rounding it. At every descent the mass augments, and a report 
 is heard like thunder. The echoes prolong it, in their extensive 
 route, with many a still lingering note, along those sequestered 
 
24 Montemonfs Tour over the Alps, and in Italy. 
 
 haunts. This last kind of avalanche is most to be dreaded in 
 approaching the cimex, and in descending from it. They some- 
 times fall in the presence of the traveller, and block up his pas- 
 sage, as if indignant at his audacity. 
 
 Having mentioned Jacques Balmat as the first who scaled the 
 summit, let me add, that his daughter would accompany him, and 
 actually reached the brow of the colossus. If the attempt was 
 creditable to her courage, it was unhappily contrasted by the 
 event, as she returned almost blind, and was subjected to a weak- 
 ness that lasted several years. 
 
 Enough of Mont Blanc, its glaciers and avalanches : in my 
 next I must report other interesting particulars connected with the 
 valley of Chamouny, for nature, here, is inexhaustible in the 
 general merits of her phenomena, her metamorphoses, and the 
 different objects of her composition. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 THE ARVERON, OR FOUNTAIN-HEAD OF THE ARVE. — MONT EN- 
 VERS. — THE SEA OF ICE. — CROIX DE FLEGERE. — MONT BREVEN. 
 
 The Valley of Chaumont forms an article which I cannot dis- 
 cuss, as a tourist, without bestowing upon it a considerable portion 
 of praise. To the eye of fancy it presents a grand spectacle of 
 powerful and improving effect, from the variety and well combined 
 structure of its parts; as such, I recommend it to the sedulous 
 attention of tourists. Throughout the whole valley variety is 
 never once lost sight of. Here is greatness of dimension, in- 
 spiring ideas of infinity, with terror, stillness, darkness, — rocks 
 of every eccentric form and character, lakes and rivers, deep and 
 majestic water-falls, trees, roughness and irregularity.* — These are 
 the obvious and avowed works of simple nature. But combined 
 with this scenery, though subordinate to, and depending, as it is 
 were, on it, art has employed, and, in some degree, displayed 
 effects illustrative and ornamental, in decorations, that by a tran- 
 sition not too sudden seem necessary to please the eye and the 
 mind. Throughout the valley, buildings and the architecture of 
 country towns, &c. improve the landscape in many essential 
 points which enter into the composition of the picturesque. Here 
 are all the metamorphoses of Proteus, blended with a thousand 
 attractions of Vertumnus. 
 
 It was in this district, so highly distinguished by the originality 
 of its objects and character, that the author of La nouvelle Heloise 
 forgot the fluctuations of his fortune, and supported his character 
 of independence with spirit and consistency. To me it conveyed 
 
Journey from Geneva to C/iamouny, 25 
 
 pleasing incitements to wisdom and the love of virtue, every thing 
 seemed calculated to improve, entertain, and fortify the mind. 
 
 Travellers whose moral or physical constitution will not admit 
 of their ascending Mount Blanc, should not fail to visit an impor- 
 tant object, the sources of the Arveron. This is a rapid, boister- 
 ous stream, that, within a quarter of a league of its spring head, 
 loses its name in uniting with the Arve. The Arveron descends 
 from a vast glacier, named Les Bois, which communicates with 
 the Sea of Ice. This torrent dashes down from the lower part 
 of the glacier along a great arch of ice, more than a hundred feet 
 high by nearly as many in breadth. It is dangerous approaching 
 too near this superb vault and cavern, as oval arches and blocks of 
 ice are continually tumbling from the heights. The waters of the 
 torrent which carry along with them spangles of gold sand, rush 
 with a foaming and tumultuous rage from the vault, often roll- 
 ing enormous fragments of ice. The vast mouth of the Arveron 
 is surmounted with lofty pyramids of ice, and encircled, as in a 
 frame, with the beautiful forest trees of mount Envers and Le 
 Bouchard. Here the traveller must be careful not to discharge 
 fire arms, or to make the least noise in the vicinity. A Genevese 
 family disappeared, and whs lost among the falling blocks, from 
 accidentally firing a pistol, which shook the vault and unloosed its 
 component parts. 
 
 At no great distance is the village of Les Bois, inhabited by 
 Albinos, a race of men that excite compassion rather than envy, 
 from the imbecility of their physical constitution. They seem 
 scarcely able to bear the day-light, and what little work they do ifl 
 in their houses, to provide subsistence and satisfy their wants, 
 which, happil}', are but few. 
 
 Mount Envers lies at the foot of another called the Needle of 
 Charmoz, which is contiguous to Mount Blanc, and 5724 feet 
 above the level of the Sea. It is the largest of the glaciers of the 
 Alps, and has acquired the appellation of the sea of Ice. The 
 imagination is dazzled with the naked masses clustering all around 
 this ocean of ice. It is a sort of pompous desert, where an elo- 
 quent silence reigns, penetrating the soul with profound and 
 durable emotions. The panorama, from the distinct and exclu- 
 sive character which it possesses, might seem to belong to a new 
 world. 
 
 About half way up, we come to a fountain that yields a very 
 scanty flow of water, but delicious and refreshing. Here there is 
 a sudden and unexpected variation in the view. Every object 
 appears soft and beautiful, light and playful, but it is within a 
 narrow confined circle, as, all around, every thing indicates and 
 represents a wild and desolate scene. Near this fountain we find 
 the amiante, a singular mineral, consisting of delicate threads of 
 Voyages and Thayels, No, LI. Vol. IX. E 
 
26 Montemont's Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 an argentine ash-colour, of which the ancients made a cloth like 
 linen, but incombustible. 
 
 Advancing a little higher, the road becomes very dangerous, 
 from the frequent fall of avalanches and pieces of rocks that get 
 loose from the sides of the mountains. All along we have the 
 valley of Chamouny in view. 
 
 Having once gained the height, in lieu of beauty or any other 
 qualities which arc the foundation of a scene riante, we discover a 
 large and extensive valley, entirely of ice, environed with gigan- 
 tesque mountains, whose crests seem lost in the Heavens. Their 
 bald and arid appearance, blended with their lofty fronts and steep 
 flanks, infused a terror whicli it was impossible to surmount. If 
 there is a man in whom the sensations and impressions of dread 
 would not be excited by the view, he must have a heart thrice bound 
 with adamant. 
 
 On the top of the green swarth which overlooks Mount Envers, 
 is a neat pavilion, erected by M. Felix Desportes, then ambassador 
 from France to Geneva. This little temple, dedicated to Nature, 
 (so the inscription on the front purports) will afford shelter to 
 travellers that may pass the night there. 
 
 The Valley of Ice, whose surface resembles that of a sea suddenly 
 frozen, in a moment of calm, is an immense icy plain, of a magni- 
 ficent green colour, that extends from the glaciers of Les Bois to 
 the Col du Geant, near Cormayeur, in Piedmont, through a space 
 of about ten leagues. 
 
 When from the grassy summit of Mount Envers we begin to 
 descend, it is by a very rapid path, among Rhododendrons and 
 Larches, to the brink of the glacier, where enormous accumula- 
 tions of stone and sand rise to view. We next advance, but with 
 extreme caution, to acquire a just notion of its extent. A piece 
 of the ice gives immediate relief to the head-ache, by preventing 
 the ascension of the blood. The inhabitants of the district make 
 use of it for the purpose. At the southern extremity of the Sea of 
 Ice, an arm of this sea, which has the name of the Glacier of 
 Talefre, becomes exposed to view. The naturalist will there dis- 
 cover useful materials to form an acquisition to his knowledge, and 
 the philosopher, who possesses sensibility, will contemplate the 
 expansive scene with pleasure. 
 
 The traveller, here, will make a little turn to the left, passing 
 by pyramids of ice, that threaten to crush any who approach them, 
 and scale a rock called Le Couvercle, and after that, ascend a 
 plateau, a sort of oasis or island in the midst of the glacier. This, 
 in the month of August, becomes a parterre of very fine turf, em- 
 bellished with beautiful alpine flowers. It has obtained the name 
 of the Garden, and has all the appearance of one, being bordered 
 with stones and sand, thrown out of the glaciers, and making a 
 
[Journey from Geneva to Chamouny. 2? 
 
 sort of inclosure about it. This flowery garden rises 8484 feet 
 above the level of the sea, and 9S6 higher than the Hospitium of 
 great St. Bernard. It lies in the midst of snow and ice, in situ- 
 ations the most arid, and on the highest mountains of the ancient 
 continent. 
 
 A curious proof was here exhibited of the fact that glaciers will 
 not retain foreign substances. During the time that French 
 troops held the valley of Chamouny in military occupation, a post 
 of observation was established on Mount Envers, to apprehend 
 deserters, then very numerous. Here, upon information that a 
 party had crossed the Sea of Ice, and that an individual had sought 
 refuge on the Garden, it was resolved to surprise him -there. 
 While traversing an ocean of ice, one of them slid into a crevice, 
 hid under recent snow; his comrades make a cord of their hand- 
 kerchiefs, great coats, &c. and draw him out, but without his fire 
 arms. Sometime after, another party found his fusee on the 
 surface of the glacier. 
 
 A tradition is prevalent that the space now covered by the Sea 
 of Ice was once a valley well cultivated and inhabited, and that it 
 formed a passage to go from Chamouny to Piedmont, through 
 Cormayeur. 
 
 La Croix de Flegere is one of the finest mountains about the 
 valley of Chamouny. I^adies jnight ascend it without difficulty, 
 and a great part of it lies through a forest. Having passed all the 
 trees, we soon arrive at a cross, where a view opens that will take 
 in the whole valley, and all the sea of glass, which last appears 
 here in two grand divisions, with lofty precipices every where 
 overhanging them. On the right and left, on the other side of 
 the valley, we can clearly distinguish all the glaciers, the Col de 
 Balme, all the different needles, and Mount Blanc, a bold, unbro- 
 ken, broad mass, of a magnitude, shape, and features to constitute 
 an order of superior eminence. At an humble, inferior distance, 
 are seen, as permanent parts of the landscape, in this farewell view, 
 rocks and mountains, hanging forests, and sudden precipices, 
 rivers, dingles, cascades and headlong torrents, so mingled with 
 diversities as if nature had studied and consulted this object; and, 
 as before observed, the wildness of nature is, in many parts of the 
 valley, subjugated by art. 
 
 Mount Breven is at a little distance from the Cross of Flegere, 
 and rises 7836 feet above the level of the sea. It retains most of 
 the solid features of the last-mentioned landscape, and will com- 
 mand the admiration of every judicious beholder. 
 
 My Scotch companions had a spirit of enterprize which these 
 adventures were admirably calculated to excite; their ingenuity 
 and industry were often shewn in them to advantage. Both had 
 cultivated religious sentiments ; one of them, from the solemnity 
 
28 MoniemonCs Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 of his demeanour, was the Nestor of the troop. The character of 
 the other, bold, prominent, and decisive, marked him out as our 
 AchillefJ,and, like Homer's Hero, swift footed. From his agility 
 we called him the Chamois, — but woe to any of those animals 
 that fell within his ken, death or captivity was sure to be their lot. 
 
 The eldest of my pupils rivalled our Acliilles in viracity. In 
 bounding over torrents and precipices, he, at times, out stripped 
 tlie Caledonian, having learned of our famous dancer, Deshayes, 
 to trip it, in all the whirling movements of Vestris and Duport. 
 With constitutions such as to defy all common rules of conduct, 
 incident to the grave manner usual with grave characters, these 
 two might exclaim, with one of Tasso's warriors, * Fatigues, 
 dangers, I like best to take counsel of you/ 
 
 The Caledonian Nestor and my second pupil had n conformity 
 of character, but from the diminished irritability of their nerves, 
 it was in making their advances with calmness. This caution, as 
 any one may tiiink, would be of importance in their case, securing 
 them from little accidents, of which their rivals often incurred the 
 ri:>k and felt the inconvenience, but without material injury. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 FROM CHAMOUNY TO MARTIGNY— THE VALORSINE— TBTE NOIR. 
 — -TRIENT— -COL DB FORCLAY— A VIEW OF THK RHONE, IN 
 THE VA LAIS— ALPINE ANIMALS. 
 
 Bidding adieu to Chamouny, its valley and glaciers, with the 
 earliest tints of dawn we had left the central village, aiming next 
 for the Valorsine and the Col de I'i Tete Noir, in our way to 
 Martigny en Valais. We came in good time to the hamlet of 
 Trelafin, whence we may discern that of Tour, at the foot of the 
 Col de Bahne, where, every winter, snow falls to the depth of 
 12 or 15 feet. The inhabitants are then obliged every morning 
 to sweep away the snow before their houses. During one very 
 rigorous winter, they remained eight months buried under the 
 snow, deprived of all communication, and not able to pass from 
 one house to another. 
 
 To this hamlet of Trelafin we may apply a passage of Voltaire, 
 when, in his Journey to Berlin, he treats of certain countries in 
 Westp/halia. 
 
 ** in some large hovels that I have seen here, called bouses, 
 we find animals, called men, that live in the greatest cordiality, 
 and pell-mell with other domestic animals. A certain hard, 
 black, and glutinous substance, made, according to report, of a 
 ioecics of rye, forms the pruicipal sustenance of the inmates." 
 
Journey from Chamomy to Martigny, 29 
 
 In my third letter, I noticed a hard kind of bread, made to 
 last for a year or eighteen months, — this is similar to what 
 Voltaire mentions. It is cut with a large knife, like that which 
 wooden shoe-makers use in polishing their shoes. Pieces of it 
 are then thrown into hot water, and when sufficiently steeped, 
 they eat it with cheese and potatoes. 
 
 About half a league above Trelafin, we have gained another 
 ascent, and we then enter into the Valorsine, a valley of a much 
 wilder aspect than that of Chamouny, and for this plain reason, 
 because it is more elevated. It stretches from west to east, 
 towards the Valais, and is watered by a torrent that issues from 
 the glaciers of Buet. However wild, it is not without some 
 beauties, skirting the sinuous valley, on either side. Here are 
 diversities of tint, of light as well as shade, so modified as to 
 feast the eye and fill the imagination: pastures, orchard plots, 
 cultivated fields, with the foliage of the larch in its blooming 
 groves, clothe naked nature to the best advantage, at least, as 
 far as the inhabitants know how. Winter continues long, and it 
 is only in the month of June that the snows disappear. 
 
 The valley may contain about 600 inhabitants, scattered along 
 the extent of the elevation, in several hamlets depending on the 
 village of Valorsine. During the three months of their fine 
 weather, the men go abroad to seek employment in the Valais 
 and the Tarentaise. The church of the Valorsine is protected by 
 a high mountain that serves it for a rampart against the ava- 
 lanches, by which, in different situations, it had been more than 
 once overset. There is only one auberge at Valorsine ; here a 
 gastronome (epicure) would be ill at ease, as he could get no- 
 thing but milk, cheese, eggs, and bad wine, with bread a year 
 old. This auberge had no sign, and we gave it a name, calling 
 it the hotel desvrais amis, of true friends. 
 
 At Valorsine we met with a young person of uncommon personal 
 beauty, that, far enough from being wild, was, however, to a cer- 
 tain degree, timid. Her hair floated in waving ringlets on her 
 shoulders, as blown on by bland zephyrs. Her eyes, under 
 her sunk eye-lids, masked the sweet passion of love in all its 
 sensibilities. Her complexion was the incarnation of the rose 
 blended with ivory. Said 1 to myself, '' Where will this beauty 
 nestle and find a mate?" and i paid her several compliments : 
 among others, " Madam," said I, " you ought, at least, to bear 
 the name of one of the Graces." " Sir," replied she, the car- 
 nation glowing on her cheeks, ^* my name is Cecilia." 
 
 She appeared so young that I could not feel it unpolite to ask 
 her age. She said she was sixteen, and was born in the village 
 of Valorsine. The backwardness of the climate prevented her 
 fair alabaster skin from developing the plenitude of its polish. 
 
30 3IonlemonVs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 Her breasts, though rounded by the hands of the Graces, were as 
 yet only budding. They were partly, but not entirely, concealed. 
 No ornaments distinguished her apparel; but the simplex mun- 
 ditiis only made her the more attractive. She was the very 
 Galatea, or Estelle, that figures in our romances and idylls, in 
 short, the Shepherdess of the Alps, in the whole range of ideal 
 perfection that the title may seem to import. 
 
 One of our Scotch gentiemen asked her if she would ac- 
 company us, adding many flattering promises; but the smile 
 that she gave him in return, made it appear that she knew 
 already what it was to love and to be beloved. And, in fact, he saw 
 a very handsome young fellow soon after come and plant himself 
 by her, take her hand and kiss it,— -nor would he afterwards leave 
 her. The young Scot, with ardent eyes, coursed over the charm- 
 ing hands, the vermilion lips of this Alpine nymph, whose eyes 
 darted traits of a curious sensibility that were irresistible. 
 
 But we must tear ourselves from this dazzling vision, our 
 liorses were waiting, and our guide was hastening our departure, 
 fearful of being benighted : so we bid farewell to the fair Cecilia. 
 Her new lover clasped her hand, exhaling a sigh that was not re- 
 echoed, and which flew away cm thp win^-s of the light winds. 
 
 Quitting Valorsine, we enter next the mountains of the Valais, 
 advancing into the heart of a forest of larches, to visit La Tete 
 Noire. We proceed along a rugged path to a rock shaped as 
 a cavern, where an English lord with his lady passed a disagree- 
 able night, waiting for the parts of his carriage, which had been 
 taken to pieces and carried on the backs of mules, that he might 
 have it said, that a carriage had passed over these frightful soli- 
 tudes. It was a whim which cost him seven or eight hundred 
 francs. 
 
 As we approach Le Col de la Tete Noire, the aspect of the 
 country grows wilder ; the road serpentines all along among 
 trees ; but it is edged with precipices eight or nine hundred feet 
 in depth, with a deep torrent at the bottom, of a whitish water, 
 foaming and brawling with a deafening roar, over ragged pro- 
 jecting rocks. 
 
 On the left we see, on the opposite side of the valley, the vil- 
 lage and church of Finio, which look as if suspended in the air. 
 It is difficult to conceive how vegetation and the dwellings of 
 men can be maintained in such an elevation. 
 
 At length we arrived at a place called Malpas, or Mapas, with 
 dangerous steps, rudely cut out of the rocks. We were struck 
 with terror, catching a glympse of the abysses close to the road 
 on the left, and of the rocks on the right, threatening to over- 
 whelm us. This place is called Lu Tete Noire, (the Black 
 
Journey from Chamouny to Martigny, 31 
 
 Head,) it being, in fact, a height every where of that colour 
 from the dark rocks and firs that cover the flank of tive mountain. 
 
 We come next to a descent, or rough declivity, which leads to 
 the valley of Trient, where we observed peculiar situations, in all 
 the varieties of a most romantic form. As a lover of the pic- 
 turesque, I remarked also a bridge over the torrent, near a 
 hamlet, and surrounded v^ith trees, green plots, and the majestic 
 perspective of mountain towering above mountain. These little 
 diversities, though of secondary consideration, created attraction. 
 From the valley of Trient we ascend to the Col de Forclay, from 
 the height of which we clearly discover the sinuosities of the 
 Rhone, in the Valais, together with the plain along which it 
 pours, in its serpentine meanders, and the city of Sion, in the 
 centre. The scene is interesting, commanding at one view, the 
 romantic course of the river and a most extensive reach. 
 
 The bleak rocks of the Col de Forclay cast their long shadows 
 over an area of more than equal sterility to that of LaTete Noire. 
 Here we find vegetation at a stand, and natural productions 
 shrinking from the stern blasts of winter. 
 
 It may afford satisfaction to those curious in natural history to 
 be informed respecting the diff'erent animals that inhabit these 
 mountains. I forgot to treat of them when at Chamouny. 
 
 Besides most of the quadrupeds and birds common in France 
 and Germany, we find in the Alps, the lynx, the white hare, the 
 black squirrel, the wild goat, the chamois, the black and fallow 
 bear, the marmot, or mountain rat, the great eagle, and the white 
 wood-hen. 
 
 Of the lynx, the ancients reported, that his piercing sight 
 could make its way through opaque bodies; this was a fiction. 
 Our lynx cannot see through stone-walls ; but his eyes are un- 
 usually brilliant : he utters a cry somewhat like that of the wolf. 
 He is not so large, nor does he stand so high on his legs. In 
 general, he is about the size of a fox, but walks and leaps like a 
 cat. He lives by the chase, and pursues his game even to the 
 tops of trees, strangling his victims when seized, and sucking 
 their blood. After opening their heads to devour the brains, he 
 will often abandon them in quest of other prey. 
 
 The white hare in his manners resembles the rest of his species; 
 but is wilder. 
 
 The black squirrel lodges constantly on the highest trees, and 
 is still more afraid of water than of the ground. He is very 
 sprightly, and remarkably clean. In summer he makes a provi- 
 sion of nuts, and lives on them in winter. 
 
 The marmot and the bear pass the winter in abstinence and 
 fasting. When the bad season commences they are very fat ; 
 but at the return of spring as lean as cuckows. The marmot 
 
32 MontemonCs ToUr over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 is so torpid in his winter sleep, that when surprised in the earth 
 he may be tossed about, and even torn to pieces, without emerg- 
 ing from his lethargy. When the warm weather returns, he re- 
 assumes his ordinary functions. 
 
 The bear is not so lethargic as the marmot ; his fat helps him 
 to support hunger, and he seldom quits his lair but when very 
 much pressed by hunger. This animal is capricious and irritable, 
 and dislikes fillips on the nose or muzzle, though not averse to 
 the caresses of women. 
 
 A company of French grenadiers patroling Mount Cenis, one 
 day surprised a bear in the forest dragging a young girl to his 
 laire. He had perched on his two hind legs, and with one of his 
 front paws seemed to be giving her the arm. They surround 
 him and make him let go his prey, y)resently killing him. The 
 poor girl, half dead with fright, coming to herself, declared that 
 the bear had attempted to do violence to her person. She died 
 eight day's after. The Captain of the detachment, M. Turquois, 
 an eye witness, vouched to me for this fact. 
 
 Another incident, not less extraordinary, took place in the 
 mountain of Chaillot. A shepherd's daughter, tending her 'flock, 
 was seized by a bear, and carried away in his paws. Her cries 
 and groans were heard by the shepherds and huntsmen ; but they 
 arrived too late. The animal had gratified his brutal passion ; 
 but in his rage to be interrupted, he^tore the girl to pieces. Another 
 bear came up to the spot, and would dispute the other's claim to 
 the female; but both were cut to pieces by the hunters. 
 
 In another mountain of the High Alps, the wife of a shepherd 
 going into the forest was carried away by a bear, and lived for 
 some time in his den. After some months the huntsmen, hear- 
 ing a bear making dreadful bowlings, pursued and killed him. 
 The smell of a corpse exhaling from his cavern, they enter it, and 
 find that of a woman ; she was known by the guide of the hunts- 
 men to be the person they had been so long in quest of. 
 
 The great eagle of the Alps is four feet four inches in length, 
 and nine feet four inches between the extremities of his wings. 
 He disdains the smaller animals, and contemns their insults. 
 Aquila non capit muscas. If he punishes the insolence of the crow 
 and the magpie with death, it is not till they have long teazed 
 him with their importunate chattcrings. He looks for an enemy 
 worthy of his resentment, and has been known to attack oxen, 
 and, as fame reports, to precipitate them from thd top of the 
 rocks. 
 
 Descending now from the Col de Forclay, we come to Mar- 
 tigny, a little town in the Lower Valais, famous in the time of 
 Caesar, who took possession of it to secure the passage of the 
 Great St. Bernard, 
 
Journey from Mariigny to Great Si, Bernard. 33 
 
 Martigny stretches along a mountain very near the Rhone. 
 The suburbs border the torrent of the Drance, which descends 
 from St. Bernard and empties itself into the great river. Mar- 
 tigny will be our rallying point in certain excursions in the 
 vicinity. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 KXCURSION TO GREAT ST. UKRNAUD. — VALLEY OP ENTREMONT, 
 &C. — ST. PIERRE. — VAL DE PROU. — HOUSE OF REFUGE. — COJU 
 t>E ST. BERNARD, &C. 
 
 The passage of Mount St. Bernard was not rendered practica- 
 ble till the time of Csesar. That great captain, in spite of the 
 elements, made a road over it, but it was to enslave the free people 
 of the valley of the Rhone and the Allobroges, Geneva being 
 one of their principal cities. The French armies renewed this 
 passage, under the standard and direction of Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 The torrent of the Drance takes its rise, pouring from a moun- 
 tain near the Hospitium of Great St. Bernard ; it then passes 
 through the valley of Entremont, one of the most interesting 
 among these mountains, and after frequently swelling to a dread- 
 ful flood, spreads itself over the surrounding level, till it mingles 
 its whitish waters with the muddy current of the Rhone. It is 
 often destructive in its career. 
 
 From Martigny, we proceed to St. Branchier, a village on the 
 banks of the Drance, where the valley of Entremont begins, but 
 reaches four leagues further to the little town of St. Pierre, the 
 last village on the road to the Hospitium of St. Bernard. 
 
 Before we enter St. Branchier, we pass under a vaulted roof cut 
 in the live rock, on the right bank of the Drance, in 1818, after 
 that torrent, in its infuriated course, had entirely swept away the 
 road. This was at the time when the ice broke up in the unfor- 
 tunate valley of Bagne. 
 
 Next to St, Branchier we come to the village of Orcieres, and 
 so keep advancing through the valley of Entremont, enlivened 
 with the luxuriance and mellow tints of green meadows, in the 
 middle of which the Drance no longer rages with impetuous 
 eddies, but rolls its silver streams with Serenity through a country 
 adorned with golden harvests on the sides of its hills. 
 
 After a journey of about an hour and a lialf we arrive at Lid- 
 des, a large village half way between Martigny and the Hospitium, 
 agreeably situated in the midst of meadows. The church steeple 
 bears the date of 1008. 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No. LI, Vol. IX. F 
 
34 Moni€moni\ Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 Leaving this village the valley grows wilder. It was here that 
 our artillery was dragged up to the height of St. Bernard by the 
 soldiers and peasants, in an ascent of" four leagues across snow 
 and.Ice. M. Taillard thus describes this operation. A hundred 
 and twenty nnen harnessed to a long rope, drew along the cannon 
 and their carriage. Besides their arms, ammunition, and provi- 
 sions for five days, each soldier of the division Watrin carried also 
 the provisions of the division Loison. The weight of this double 
 load was estimated at more than seventy pounds, but the ardour 
 of our men was inconceivable. When benambed with cold and 
 harassed with fatigue, the volunteers found their courage and 
 strength sinking, — ihey called out for the drums to beat a charge, 
 and, inspired by their drums and martial songs, they succeeded in 
 reaching at length the summit of St. Bernard. In passing the 
 southern side of tjje mountain the men slided over the snow to 
 the bottom of the declivity, Bonaparte and all the officers imita- 
 ting them. 
 
 From the hamlet of Alleve, about which Napoleon had placed 
 his cavalry in the month of May, 1800, we ascend to a village 
 called St. Pierre, 5000 feet above the level of the sea. The 
 entrance of'this village, on the side next the Hospitium, is de- 
 fended by a wall, gates, and a bridge of one arch, thrown over a 
 torrent whose deep channel, a quarter of a league higher up, fall- 
 ing from a rock, forms a very fine cascade, of 200 feet in its fall. 
 
 Having once gained the height of St. Pierre, we have a view of 
 Mount Velan and the Glacier of Menoue, and.soon enter into the 
 valley of Great St. Bernard, at the distance of three leagues from 
 the convent. 
 
 In tracing a little descent, along which the road goes toward 
 the Drance, we pass the edge of a precipice where the first con- 
 sul was in danger of perishing, by sliding from his mule into the 
 snow. A peasant caught him by the coat, and received a thousand 
 francs in recompence. 
 
 The further we advance the more vegetation degenerates. At 
 Martigny we were gratified with the bloom and foliage of the 
 oak and chesnut trees, and in proceeding to St. Branchier, with 
 groves of beeches and yoke elms. The valley of Entremont had 
 its characteristic charms, its lands being uniformly covered with 
 verdure ; but tiiis rich decoration, which has so excellent an 
 ,external appearance, diminishes in proportion as we ascend. Af- 
 terwards, scattered here and there, we see maples, alders, lote 
 trees, and firs. In our next situation we had larches and willows, 
 at the height of 5400 feet above the level of the sea, and after 
 that trees disappeared, and we saw nothing but wild rose plants 
 and rhododendrons. Advancing to an elevation of SOOO feet, we 
 should find nothing but moss and certain Alpine plants, but these, 
 
Journey from Marligny to Great St. Bernard. 35 
 
 on reaching a higher story, disappear, and at the height of 1 0/100 
 feet would he nothing but lichens overspreading the surface of 
 the rocks, and at another height all vegetation wiiatever is at a 
 stand. 
 
 In proceeding through the valley of St. Bernard we keep along- 
 side of the Drance, among some pasture grounds and dairy 
 houses that belong to the Hospitium, till we come to a plateau 
 named le Prou, whereon we find seven little barns about a hun- 
 dred paces distant from the great dairy of St. Bernard, wherein 
 cows are kept and cheese is prepared. 
 
 On the left, in front, we discover the mountain of the Drome, 
 where three companies of grenadiers passed over snow and ice, 
 10,800 feet above the sea, to surprise, an enemy's post on the 
 southern declivity. At the word of the first consul they darted 
 over the dangerous height, and fortune crowned their enterprize 
 with success. 
 
 To approach the Hospitium we keep along the Drance, here 
 only a large brook, 6000 feet above the level of the sea. Soon after 
 vegetation disappears, and a picture of desolation and sterility 
 presents itself hardly to be imagined. We now walk over stones 
 and moss, and in about half an hour come to two little buildings, 
 one of which serves as a house of refuge for travellers, and tbe 
 other is to preserve, for a time, the bodies of such individuals as 
 perish in the snow. 
 
 This place has the name of the Jiospital, and hither provisions 
 are brought by the dogs of St. Bernard, accompanied by their 
 masters, and, especially in great storms, care being also taken to 
 make out a path for the traveller. 
 
 This region is exposed to what is here called a tonrmente, a hur- 
 ricane attended with vast shoals of snow, that suddenly in a few 
 seconds, rise to the highest part of the gorges and deep cavities, 
 covering and overwhelming wiierever it finds them. A traveller 
 surprised in these openings, is in the greatest danger, for he can- 
 not keep his eyes open so as to explore his way, or if in the plain 
 road, it is soon obstructed, and he is in danger of falling into 
 some abyss. In such cases the intelligent dogs and the worthy 
 religious of St. Bernard, often constitute a resource superior and 
 permament. 
 
 We^ soon had the satisfaction of accosting those venerable 
 ecclesiastics, so devoted to the kind offices of mercy ; every glance, 
 every line and feature of which has its animation and character, 
 eloquent of sympathy, and forming the perfection, the sublime of 
 human nature. Entering their hospitium, it is but justice to re- 
 mark, that from the active zeal and public spirit which pervade 
 that benevolent institution, we were welcomed like children Tong 
 absent from their loving parents. 
 
36 Montemont's Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 The Hospitium of Great St, Bernard stands on the highest 
 part of a mountain, in a very narrow gorge, between steep and 
 desert rocks, 7560 feet above the level of the sea. Its situation 
 is at a point where the north and south winds meet, with all the 
 varieties of sound, from the faintest murmuring to the sullen 
 roar, and, at times, combating with a boisterous rage and awful 
 impetuosity, not to be conceived by those unacquainted with the 
 scene. We saw no signs of vegetation, excepting some wretched 
 garden plants which ttie good fathers were trying to raise ; and as 
 to the>r provisions, they fetch them from a distance of four or five 
 leagues. St. Bernard stands on the very point most convenient 
 as a refuge for travellers in a tempest. 
 
 This habitation, the most elevated of the old Continent, was 
 founded by St. Bernard, in 1)6*2, and he presided, as its warden, 
 for the space of ^10 years. It consists of three ranges of build- 
 ings, tlxi charms of which depend not upon the accidents of deco- 
 ration, for the most perfect symmetry, and all its corresponding 
 ornaments, would here be graces of inferior magnitude, and the 
 beauty itself of art, would make but the smaller part of loveliness. 
 The whole beams with expression, abounds with character, de- 
 scriptive of some kind or elevated passion, with superior charms, 
 that never cloy nor fade. 
 
 The Corps de Logis, or principal mansion, stands at the end 
 of a very deep lake, frozen over in winter ; it is capable of receiv- 
 ing nearly 200 persons at a time. In the right, are offices for the 
 domestics ; they are so constructed as to intercept, at one of the 
 angles, any avalanches that from an adjacent mountain might 
 overspread the Hospitium. On the left, and more to the north, 
 is the chapel wherein individuals are deposited tliat are found 
 dead in the snow. They are ranged one beside another, as in a 
 camp mortuary, the bodies, from the dryness, vivacity, and free 
 circulation of the air, corrupting very slowly. The traits of th^ 
 countenance remain unaltered for years, and the bodies, wlien 
 dried, take the semblance of mummies. 1 noticed some dead 
 three years and more, that st^ll retained their hair, and the skin 
 appeared in good preservation. What seemed the most striking 
 was the body of a mother, with that of her child, both of whom 
 had perished under an avalanche. The mother was clasping the 
 child in her arms, death could not part them. 
 
 On the col of St. Bernard, advancing a little towards Italy, they 
 shew a place where, in the time of the Ilomnns, there stood a 
 temple and an Flospitium, dedicated to Jupiter Hospitalis. The 
 mountain was then called Mons Jovis, of which was made Mont 
 Joux, which it retained till the tenth century. In the ruins have 
 been found Ex Vctos, or Votive tables, in great numbers, engraved 
 on plates of bronze j they shew that from the earnest times the pas- 
 
Journey from Martigny to Great St, Bernard, 37 
 
 sage of St. Bernard was considered dangerous. The Almoner of the 
 convent introduces amateurs to a cabinet that he has formed of 
 the antiquities found in the ruined temple. We noticed a collec- 
 tion of medals of Roman Emperors, many small figures in bronze, 
 two of Hercules and a Mars, a very curious hand, a sepulchral 
 lamp, gilded ears of corn, and a little Jupiter holding the thunder. 
 These different objects are distinguished by the variety and per- 
 fection of their mechanical improvement, such as give honour and 
 importance to the arts, and also for their excellent conservation. 
 
 The church of the Hospitium is a handsome structure. The 
 arched vaulting is of a noble fresco, which has not called for any 
 reparation since 168G, when it was raised. The altar is supported, 
 by four large pillars of black marble, all of a piece. 
 
 When entered, we see on the right in the wall, a monument in 
 white marble, representing General Desaix, rendering his last 
 sighs at the battle of Marengo. The work is a master-piece of 
 the sculptor Lemoine. The hero appears in the attitude of utter- 
 ing the last words which escaped him : ' Go and tell the first 
 consul that I die with regret, not having done enough to immor- 
 talize my name with posterity.' 
 
 In the chapel we also find several paintings of tlie great masters, 
 and a beautiful organ, surmounted with an angel. 
 
 The dogs of St. Bernard are of a superior description, and 
 very ready to caress strangers. These faithful friends of man, 
 clear the way, in a time of snow, from the Hospitium to the Hos- 
 ])ital, and sometimes further, bearing on their necks a flaggon of 
 brandy to offer to the travellers, whose arrival they instinctively 
 can prognosticate at considerable distances. These interesting 
 and intelligent animals never mistake the right road, though over- 
 laid with snow. 
 
 At the end of Autumn, in 1820, a domestic of the establishment, 
 going his rounds, observed the dog that he had with liim stoj> 
 suddenly, and barking with all his miqht, run away in another 
 direction. At the same time, he hears a rumbling noise, and 
 takes a resolution to follow the dog; he thereby avoided an enor- 
 mous avalanche, wherein he must have been engulfed, had he 
 slighted the foreseeing instinct of hjs faithful companion. 
 
 One of the dogs patroling the vicinity one day in bad weather, 
 found a child that had taken refuge under a vaulted roof of snow. 
 The mother had just before disappeared under an avalanche, and 
 the child was in danger of perishing. The dog was importunate 
 in his caresses, and the child mounting his back, was brought to 
 the Hospitium, by his sagacious liberator. 
 
 These animals do not lose their beneficent instinct by a change 
 of climate. At Lisow Castle, near Liverpool, are two of the 
 St. Bernard dogs, conveyed thither by a Swiss merchant, and 
 
38 MonteincmCs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 consigned to an aunt of my pupils. One day, some children were 
 hunting for shells on tlie sea shore, when one of them was caught 
 by tlie reflux of the tide. This being observed by the others, 
 their piercing cries brought up one of the dogs then in the neigh- 
 bourhood, whicli plunging into the water, caught the child by his 
 clothes and brought him safe to land. 
 
 All the fathers of St. Bernard go on a mendicant tour, making 
 gatherings to support the expenses of their convent. Their tour 
 does not reach beyond the frontiers of Switzerland, and if other 
 mendicant brothers itinerate further, they are not of this establish- 
 ment. 
 
 As the air is unusually keen on this elevated situation, none of 
 the religious remain here above six years. We find no aged 
 persons, but young men in their full vigour. When age or infir- 
 mity approaches, the religious are appointed to serve cures in the 
 villages about the valley of Entremont as far as to Martigny, 
 where the Prior of the convent generally resides. 
 
 A hundred cows are maintained on the establishment, that sup- 
 ply it with cheese, also fifty horses or mules that go in quest of 
 provisions into Piedmont and Switzerland. Their wood comes 
 from a distance of four leagues, in the. valley of Aoste. They 
 have nothing but what is brought from a considerable distance. 
 
 We were not a little astonished at our entertainment at supper, 
 which was equal to that of the best auberge in Geneva. After 
 two services, we had the dessert and wine extra, which last was 
 not inferior to Madeira. The religious did the honours of the table 
 with a politeness and kindness not to be expressed. The servants 
 all alert, at the least sign, executed their functions with correct 
 precision. After the dessert coffee was offered us. The gaiety 
 of the place was well adapted to our feelings and to the occasion, 
 with nothing in it to call impropriety; it helped to season our 
 relish, though indeed the appetite never fails here. After the re- 
 past, one of the fathers performed on the piano-forte some pleasing 
 melodies, for they all have a taste for music, and listen to it with 
 a cultivated ear. A very agreeable marchioness, that was at sup- 
 per with us, sung some favourite lively airs of the French music, 
 and I cannot but speak of her efforts in the language of praise ; for 
 a moment we fancied ourselves at Paris, in the Theatre Favart. 
 
 At length we took leave of this disinterested and patriotic so- 
 ciety, wherein good sense, agreeable conversation, and suitable 
 conduct so pleasingly preside, and set out on our return to Mar- 
 tigny, intending to proceed to Simplon. 
 
 Previous to our re- visiting the village of LIddes, we noticed, on 
 the side of the road, a large quantity of little black balls rolled up 
 in heaps. Our company then consisted of from 15 to 20 persons, 
 all of whom had been entertained at the convent. Ooe of the 
 
Journey from Si, Bernard through the Vaiais, 39 
 
 party, 47 years of age, took these little balls for natural produc- 
 tions of the country, and beginning to chew one, presently threw it 
 away, with a sputtering noise, as bitter, or not very pleasant. This 
 traveller might be reckoned not over fastidious; what he thought 
 good fruit, his eye dwelling on it with pleasure, proved to be 
 sheep's dung. This hoggish misadventure not a little entertained 
 thegroupe of our fellow travellers, among whom, a young Parisian 
 Marchioness, handsome and amiable, said she should never forget 
 it ; — it helped to beguile the time all the way to Martigny. 
 
 There we took leave of the fair Parisian, who, with her husband 
 and father, took a different road. One of our Scotchmen, both of 
 whom were distinguished by a cheerful, good-humoured, and 
 obliging disposition, paid his attentions to her, with all the cour- 
 tesy and urbanity of a well-educated cavalier. 
 
 As a postscript to this letter, 1 add the following observations, 
 from a memoir I have just perused, by M. Parot, Professor of 
 Physics at Dorpat, and Russian Counsellor of State. 
 
 The cold apd moisture at St. Bernard make it a sort of tomb — 
 this may be attributed to various causes. The buildings are 
 buried in snow, during eight months of the year. The whole region 
 is so wrapped up in mist, that scarcely fifteen days in a year are 
 quite serene. The walls of the convent require an interior lining 
 of bricks and double windows; at present, they are dangerous con- 
 ductors of both heat and humidity. Other materials for fuel 
 might be had as substitutes for wood, or it might be economised 
 by stoves. At present, the consumption of fuel is considerable, 
 and it takes near five hours and a half to dress victuals, from the 
 diminution of the pressure of the atmosphere. 
 
 The religious of this establishment seldom live above five and 
 thirty years, and more die between twenty and. thirty, from the 
 effect of cold and the humidity of their habitation. This morta- 
 lity would be far less rapid, were precautionary measures more 
 extensively contemplated. 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 THE VALAIS, ITS EXTENT, AND SITUATION — THE TOWNS OF ST. 
 MAURICE, MARTIGNY, SIGN, AND BRIEG — MANNERS OF THE 
 VALAISANS, &C. 
 
 The Valais has been treated of in different publications, and 
 among others in the famous letter of J. J. Rousseau, one of the 
 finest in his New Heloisa. He does not enter into the design of 
 St. Preux, which was, to entertain Julia with all the curiosities of 
 the country. " We must, (he says,) reserve our correspondence. 
 
40 Montemont's Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 for matters the most interesting to ourselves, personally." He 
 merely depicts certain aspects of the country, that present them- 
 selves on every side, and communicates some liberal opinions 
 respecting the manners of the people in the Upper Valais. He 
 forbears dwelling On the majestic course of the Rhone, the towns, 
 the natural productions, the resources, the extent, and customs 
 peculiar to the country in general. On these points I shall furnish 
 some details, without omitting those of the great writer last men- 
 tioned. 
 
 The Valais is the longest and most considerable of all the val- 
 leys of Switzerland. The Rlione traverses this Canton through 
 its whole extent, which is 85 leagues, by 1 in breadth. It is sur- 
 rounded with the highest mountains of the Alps, from St. Mau- 
 rice, which is at the entrance, to the foot of Le Simplon, at the 
 other extremity. 
 
 In this lengthened dale, excavated by nature, between the 
 mountains, appear, at successive distances of from (i to 8 leagues, 
 four little towns, St. Maurice, Martigny, Sion, and Brieg. 
 
 St. Maurice lies in a passage so straitened by parallel moun- 
 tains, that, with the bridge over the Rhone, it might, as a key, lock 
 up all entrance into the valley. Near this town we find the beau- 
 tiful cascade of Pissevache, where the water tumbles perpendi- 
 cularly from a rocky height of 300 feet. The transparent stream, 
 in its headlong fall, takes the appearance of a brilliant gauze, 
 veiling the rock. 
 
 Martigny, of which some notice has already been taken, is a 
 little town near the junction of the Drance and the Rhone, at the 
 foot of the valley which leads to Great St. Bernard. It still retains 
 some tourelles, or turretted battlements, which remind us of the 
 feudal prerogatives in old times. 
 
 Sion is the capital of the Valais, seated in its central part, be- 
 tween Brieg and Martigny. It is surrounded with ramparts and 
 old towers ; these are ttie ruins of strong castles, constructed by 
 the Romans and their successors. The town lies on the widest 
 part of the valley of the Rhone, buttressed against hills enriched 
 with vineyards. 
 
 Brieg, the last town of the Valais, is situated at the foot of Le 
 Simplon, at the entrance of the valley which leads to St. Gothard, 
 and very near the Rhone. Its towers, garnished with enormous 
 globes of tin, give it, at some distance, an air of riches and 
 grandeur ; but this idea must be discarded on entering the place. 
 
 The Valais is divided into Upper and Lower. In the Lower 
 Valais the French language is universal; in the Upper, German, 
 and a little French, are spoken. 
 
 The valley is mostly sliaped as a plain, from one end to the 
 other; and'the Rhone, which waters it all along, at times, when 
 
Journey from St, Bernard through the ValaU, 41 
 
 swollen and enraged to a high degree, urges, bears down, by its 
 daring torrent, and whirls away every thing in its course, shatter- 
 ing whole plantations, and causing a general wreck. If the inha- 
 bitants, however, would combine their efforts, they would succeed 
 in securing the valley from such universal deluges. 
 
 It possesses one peculiarity, that is unusually interesting, that 
 of combining the temperature of every climate, from the polar 
 ocean to the torrid equatorial- regions. Here is a rapid transi- 
 tion from scenes of terrible and tumultuous grandeur, to mingled 
 impressions of beauty, from viewing, studying, and consulting 
 nature, in her other rich diversities. 
 
 This eternally varied line of tints, of light and shade, so mo- 
 dified, was deeply impressed on the imagination of the philoso 
 pher of Geneva. 
 
 " I was eager," said he, " to ruminate, but was ever inter- 
 rupted in my reveries by some unlooked for spectacle. Some- 
 times, the wild forms of immense rocks and hanging mountains 
 threatened sudden ruin over my head ; sometimes, lofty and pre- 
 cipitous cascades, foaming and roaring over ragged strata, be- 
 sprinkled me with their mingled misty spray. Sometimes, a dash- 
 ing torrent poured upon us from on high, and laid bare to my 
 view the steep slopes of some dangerous chasm, at the prospect of 
 which the eye sickens, and we dare not look down upon its depth.' 
 Sometimes, I lost myself in the long recesses, (gloomy as the 
 darkness of cheerless night,) in the solemn silence of some tufted 
 wood. Sometimes, emerging from a deep hollow, my eye was 
 suddenly feasted with the minuter beauties which constitute the 
 attraction of meadows. The astonishing mixture of wild and 
 cultivated nature : haunts, where one would think man could 
 never penetrate, combined with accidents of less majestic, but 
 beautiful scenery, produce and impress on the solid features of the 
 landscape, independent charms, which nothing can exterminate 
 and destroy. 
 
 *' Close to the wide expanse of some cavern, we see dwelling- 
 houses, vineyards, where we should look only for brambles, excel- 
 lent fruits on the slippery summit of rude cliffs, and cultivated 
 fields among high precipices and profound gulfs, whence the 
 shrinking eye recedes. 
 
 " It is not the hand of man only that has rendered this singular 
 tract so oddly contrasted. Nature seems to have taken pleasure 
 in appearing in opposition to herself, under different aspects, in 
 one and the same place. Towards the east, the gaiety of spring, 
 or the luxuriance of summer, and mellow fruits of autumn 5 in a 
 northerly direction, mountains covered with a veil of snow, the 
 atmosphere thick with vapoqrs, the earth locked in icy fetters, the 
 
 VoYAGKs «wc?Travkls, No, LI, Vol. IX. G 
 
42 MontemonVs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 leafless grove, the dismantled plantation, nature unclothed and 
 with a repelling nakedness, if I may so express myself. In such a 
 country, summer glowing with its yellow harvests, and winter with 
 its howling tempests, have many varieties, and their phenomena 
 are always more or less l)eautiful and suhlime." 
 
 Such is the Valais, in which we find nature in her bolder, broader 
 style, happily contrasted, relieved with a vivacious, penetrating 
 effect, by many engaging and animating, sweet and striking touches 
 of art. 
 
 With respect to the inhabitants, they leave an interesting im- 
 pression on the mind, but it is not so gaily conceived. Most of 
 them, men and women, boys and girls, have enormous goitres, 
 that forma great drawback on the general merits of their physical 
 composition. Where these complaints are found incurable, we 
 may see the subjects standing before their doors in summer, in a 
 state of entire listlessness, shewing those disgusting protuberances, 
 with their olive-coloured complexion, and unsightly features. 
 Some of them can apply to certain light labours, but in general 
 they are incapable of any application. When any discourse is 
 addressed to these hist, all the answer you can obtain consists in 
 certain inflections of the voice, like the cries of animals, accom- 
 panied with a frightful smile. 
 
 Their disorder, (called by the author, cretinism,) is attributed 
 partly to heat, partly to the stagnated air, and partly to the quality 
 of the water. It is ascribed also to the want of cleanliness in the 
 inhabitants, they being generally considered as indolent and heavy, 
 and without a proper share of industry. They appear strangers 
 to cheerfulness and gaiety; when at labour they have a melan- 
 choly air, and they have not spirits sufficient to enforce, in a due 
 degree, that style of singing airs and songs, which, when persons 
 are at work, is found to produce agreeable and serviceable effects. 
 
 During the calamities that befel their native country, in the 
 course of the French Revolution, their apiithy seems to have been 
 denounced and banished. In several instances they spurned, with 
 a becoming indignity, at the insolence of oppression, acting with 
 a spirit of manly and laudable independence. They had it not 
 in their power to controul the occupation of their country by 
 France, but, indeed, during that period, many abuses of their civil 
 establishments were reformed, and many useful institutions adopt- 
 ed, which they still retain. Odious distinctions, that had existed 
 for ages in the Upper and Lower Valais, and all along the mag- 
 nificent route of Le Simplon, were extinguished for ever. A new 
 «era has been established by that revolution, in some respects. 
 
 Three leagues from Sion, on the side of Brieg, appears the 
 handsome little town of Sierre, inhabited by the noblesse and 
 
Journey from St, Bernard through the Falais, 43 
 
 opulent families. It is the first place where we hear the German 
 spoken. The water here is insalubrious, and when drunk cold 
 renders the voice hoarse. 
 
 From Sierre there is a ready communication to the baths of 
 Leuk, which are much frequented in the fair season, from the su- 
 perior efficacy of tjieir waters. The town of Leuk is situated on 
 a height on the right bank of the Rhone^ about five leagues from 
 Sierre. 
 
 Leaving Sierre we soon enter a forest of larches along the 
 Rhone. At the village of Tourtemagne, there is a very good inn, 
 and a cascade which may vie with that of Pisse Vache near St. , 
 Maurice. 
 
 As we advance forward the valley grows narrower, and we pass 
 through Vi^ge, a little town that has two Gothic churches, de- 
 corated with very odd figures; and lastly appears the town of 
 Brie^, at the foot of Le Simplon, on the left bank of the Rhone. 
 
 With the exception of salt, their country supplies the Valaisans 
 with all the necessaries of life. Meadows and their cattle form 
 the principal source of their riches. Generally speaking, they are 
 kind and hospitable, and an equal mediocrity, remote both from 
 misery and luxury, illustrates the character of their domestic 
 economy. 
 
 Of the Valaisans, it may be said as of the Athenians, in all 
 things tliey are too superstitious. A traveller, M. Echasseriaux, 
 as quoted by M. Mallet, takes notice of their hermitages, their 
 ossuaries, or depositaries of relics, their chapels cut in the rock, 
 or scattered about its base, or on the sides and summits of moun- 
 tains; "these," says he, "contain abundant sketches of the reli- 
 gious humour which pervades the character of the people in the 
 different parts of their country. Here stands a cross in front of 
 the enormous ruins of a mountain overset, there another has been 
 planted before a torrent that menaces devastation ;" to which, it 
 is added, that while the house of the citizen is poor, the church 
 of the hamlet is always richly ornamented. 
 
 At these chapels, as M. Mallet remarks in one of his interest- 
 ing letters on the route of Le Simplon, the labourer comes to im- 
 plore ruio for his field, and the shepherd to pray for divine aid 
 against the disease that attacks his flock. The chapel, from 
 which numberless vows are addressed, stands beside a field, dried 
 up with heat in the midst of a pasture ground wherein the flocks 
 are languishing, and not far from the avalanche which had occa- 
 sioned destruction to one on a contiguous site. 
 
 From Martigny to Brieg, we have kept along the valley in the 
 course of the Rhone, sometimes on the right, sometimes on the 
 left, and crossing it over neat wooden bridges. We have been 
 hemmed in with mountains, as in a longitudinal cavity, respiring 
 
44 Montemont^s Tour over the Alps and in Italf, 
 
 an air hot and gross from the concentrated localities. Among 
 the Valaisans there are but few handsome persons, unless, per- 
 haps, in the higher mountains, wliere the cretin docs not exist. 
 Julia's lover makes mention of some charming figures there. 
 
 We shall now quit the Rhone, which, on our left, descends 
 from Mount Gothard, and proceed to ascend L^^.Simplon by the 
 new route bearing its name^ and forming one oi the wonders of 
 our age. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 or THB MOUNTAIN LB SIMPLON, AND THB GRAND ROUTB OR 
 ROAD BEARING ITS NAME. 
 
 Thb new route of Le Simplon is one of the boldest undertakings 
 which the genius of modern times has conceived and executed. 
 To clear a mountain fourteen leagues in extent, to fill up frightful 
 chasms, to pierce through a valley of rocks, striking out a passage 
 therein, to correct or to combat mountainous declivities subject 
 to avalanches, to make a number of turnings in different passages, 
 to mitigate the inclination of the road, to fix bridges over depths 
 which the eye is almost afraid to measure, all these difficulties 
 our engineers surmounted, by the labours and perseverance of 
 somewhat less than five years. 
 
 Le Simplon is a mountain situated between Great St. Bernard 
 and St. Gothard. It is rightly considered as one of the most in- 
 teresting passages of the Chain of the Alps j it is also one of the 
 richest in vegetables. Formerly it was only passable on foot or by 
 mules, and was not a little dangerous in riding along the pre- 
 cipices, and from the risk of avalanches. This passage is now 
 the easiest and most agreeable of any, without even excepting 
 Mount Cenis, the route of which is infinitely inferior in objects 
 that attach the eye and satisfy the mind. 
 
 On the side of Switzerland it is entirely covered with larches, 
 even to its crest. On the side of Italy it is much wilder; here 
 the labour of man appears most prominent, here are those im- 
 mense rocks, through the interior of which the new way has been 
 made to pass. 
 
 The route of Le Simplon, ordered by Napoleon in 1801, was 
 completed in 1805. General Thurcau, and the engineer in chief, 
 Ceard, traced the plan of the works. The execution was consign- 
 ed, under the direction of this last, to Messrs. Lescot, Houdard, 
 Cordicr, and Poulonceau, for the side of Switzerland, and to 
 Messrs. Duchene, Cournon, Maillard, Gianella, and Bossi, for the 
 Italian part. These are imperial arts, and worthy kings. 
 
Journey through the Valais and Italy:. 45 
 
 The inclination of the road is so gentle, that there is no occa- 
 sion to trig the wheels ; the width is every where about 30 feet. 
 We find pallisades of larchwood, or flat stones guarding the edge 
 of the precipices, and broad ditches on the sides of the mountain 
 to carry off the waters. From one half league to another, both 
 on the northern and southern quarters, are booses of refuge, oc- 
 cupied by cantineers, a sort of publicans, where a traveller may 
 purchase wine, brandy, and provisions, and also procure a lodging. 
 On the highest part of the mountain is an hospitium, and a little 
 lower down, on the side of Italy, is a village with a good inn, and 
 whei*e a traveller may pass the night. Post relays are established 
 along the whole route, where the service is punctually attended to. 
 At certain distances, large poles are planted to point out the road, 
 when the track is buried under snow. 
 
 From Brieg it takes us six hours to arrive at le Col du Simplon by 
 the new route. We may set down three hours to pass from the Bar- 
 rier, near the new hospitium, to the village of Le Simplon, and be- 
 tween five and six from this village to Domo d'Ossola, the first town 
 on our entering Italy. This lies at the foot of the mountain, on the 
 Italian side, as Brieg does on the side of Switzerland. In the pas- 
 sage intervening, we have to clear twenty-two bridges, and seven 
 galleries, or arched vaults, pierced through the interior of the rocks. 
 
 The first of these works that appears remarkable, we find on 
 our quitting Glisse, a village near the town of Brieg; here is a 
 superb bridge over the torrent of La Saltine, which descends from 
 Le Simplon, and falls into the Rhone. It is one of the largest 
 along the whole route, but consists of only one arch. It is built 
 of larch wood, as more durable than fir, and is the only bridge 
 under cover ; the timber work of the arch is also sheltered from 
 the rains. 
 
 Passing this, we ascend insensibly the windings of <he route, 
 with a number of little oratories on the right and left, where the 
 inhabitants go on pilgrimage. All along, from the circuitous 
 turnings, the inclination is very gentle, and at times the level is 
 so observed, that we seem travelling on a plain. The first ascent 
 is in the midst of meadows, and afterwards we proceed under the 
 shade of larches till near the summit. 
 
 Here, if from the midst of forests we turn our looks backwards, 
 a scene appears which may be viewed with delight and rapture. 
 In tracing the landscape, villages and meadows, with an endless 
 number of streams that pour into the Rhone, combine to adorn, 
 in bright glowing colours, the immense panorama. The Rhone, 
 a king of floods, rolls his expansive and whitish waters, his rapid, 
 high-surging waves, murmuring across the plain. His banks are 
 enriched with a variety of vegetation. On the flanks of the moun- 
 tains, we discover smiling cottages surrounded vvith meadows, and 
 
46 Montemont*s Tour over the Alps and in Italy . 
 
 occasionally several handsome houses, and not inelegant edifices, 
 among cultivated fields and rising grounds, that give a cheerful 
 look to thecoiihiry; churches add also to its beauty. Above 
 these fields are groves of larch trees ; and lastly, we contemplate 
 romantic rocks, naked or covered, with eternal snows bordering 
 the distant perspective. 
 
 Nearly about half way, the route passes along the bottom of a 
 valley, wherein the beautiful bridge of Ganter is established over 
 the junction of two torrents, in a place exposed to frequent aval- 
 anches ; it rises 80 feet in height. The art employed in its con- 
 struction secures it from those irruptions of snow, and enables it 
 to brave the floods ; its elegant architecture is a pleasing novelty 
 after passing through so many surrounding woods. 
 
 Works of this description alter the face and appearance of the 
 country, and eviderjtiy for the better. Travellers only come here 
 as visiters, when it has burst from the icy chains of winter, and 
 partly assumed the vivid hues of spring — nipping frosts, and the 
 bleak, keen north-east wind, s[)eedily resume their subsequent 
 empire. 
 
 In the vicinity, and about the middle of the valley, we still dis- 
 cern the huts that general Bethencouit erected for his men, in the 
 year 1800, when passing Le Simplon, at the same time as the first 
 consul was clearing the passage of Great St. Bernard. 
 
 A rough bridge, thrown over an abyss of 60 feet in breadth, had 
 been carried away by an avalanche. Here a grenadier undertakes 
 an hazardous exploit; he fixes his feet in the holes wherein the 
 posts of the bridge had been inserted, and passing from one hole 
 to another, happily arrives at the other end of the precipice. The 
 general passes the second, and all the men imitate him, suspend- 
 ed to a rope between the open air and the cavity, loaded with their 
 knapsacks and arms. Five dogs remained behind, which threw 
 themselves headlong into the chasm ; two only emerged from it, 
 and joined their masters besmeared with blood. The names of 
 the officers were engraved on an .adjacent rock. 
 
 At a little distance from the bridge of Ganter, appears the 
 handsome chalet^ or cottage of Berenzaal, in a situation very 
 agreeable during the summer. At the end of autumn the she|)- 
 herds quit their cottages and regain the plains, but the fanjily of 
 Berenzaal remain on th« mountain through the winter. A flam- 
 beau of resinous larch is kept constantly burning through the long 
 nights. The custom of lighting with wood in lieu of tallow, wax, 
 or oil, is of high antiquity, and noticed by Virgil in that passage, 
 where the lighted cedar beguiles the passing time of Circe, daugh- 
 ter of the Sun, while her i:)dustrious and most expert hand is 
 busied in the labours of the loom ; — 
 
Journey through the Falais and Itcdy^ 47 
 
 tectisque superbis, 
 
 Urit odoratam nocturna in Inmina Cedruin, 
 Arguto tcnues percurrens pectine telas. 
 
 Like Circe, the Berenzaal family are weavers, but not under 
 iectis superbis, though tlie house is solidly built, with capacious 
 barns and out-offices. In the time of the tourmentes, and very 
 chilling cold, the traveller here will find a refuge, and bless Pro- 
 vidence for affording him a secure slielter and a generous hosp?- 
 tality, in the substantial goodness of its inmates. 
 
 On quitting the larches we pass through the first gallery, and 
 the second half a league further on, close to some superb glaciers, 
 the water of which, in its descent, forms cascades of the most 
 imposing effect, to awake the traveller's attention. 
 
 From the second glacier we arrive at the barrier, where we pay 
 a toll of six francs per horse, for keeping the route in repairs. 
 This barrier, or gate, is between two ranges of buildings, one of 
 which forms an inn, and the other coach-houses, stabling, &c. 
 On the wall of the latter we read the following inscription ; — 
 ''Hie Bonaparte viam proprio patefecit olympo — Here Bona- 
 parte opened to himself a road to immortality.^' 
 
 Advancing some paces further, we reach the plateau of the 
 mountain. It is covered with a green parterre, with rhododen- 
 drons and Alpine plants, and rises 11 68 feet above the level of 
 the sea. 
 
 On the left of the road, as we proceed towards Italy, we see the 
 walls of the new Hospitium, which is to be 60 metres in length, 
 and 20 in breadth. The services are to be performed, (or this was 
 the original intention,) by fifteen ecclesiastics of Great St. Ber- 
 nard, on whose jurisdiction it depends. The emperor Napoleon 
 had endowed it with a revenue of 20,000 francs. The ancient 
 building is seen a little further on, in a hollow recess, to the right 
 of the road. It is built in the form of a tower, and contains six 
 stories ; the duties are discharged by two fathers of St. Bernard, 
 who admit poor travellers, and entertain them, gratis, with food 
 and lodging. 
 
 The plateau of Le Simplon is contracted in its view, on the 
 side of Italy, by the mountains that rise in front ; but towards 
 Switzerland every thing, as before observed, is either grand or 
 romantic, either highly interesting or picturesque, from a more 
 studied culture, as towns approach, and increasing population is 
 more discernible. 
 
 The extent of the plateau is pretty considerable. We descend, 
 by a slight declivity, toarrive at the village of Le Simplon, which 
 stands on a height, in a wild place, near a forest of larches, and 
 on the banks of a little torrent, among meadows wherein vege- 
 tation languishes. About some of the houses we see little gardens. 
 
48 Montemont's Tour over tht Mps and in Italy, 
 
 with a few kitchen plants and pot- herbs. From the vivacity of 
 the air the inhabitants are obliged to keep up fires all the year 
 round. They have stone stoves, in the shape of pillars. In the 
 three months of the fine season, they tend their flocks, trim their 
 meadows, and some fields which they have, and go in quest of 
 provisions to lay up for winter. In winter they work on the roads 
 blocked up by the snow, and become carriers of goods, mer- 
 -chandise, &c. Potatoes cannot come to maturity in a climate so 
 rigorous. But notwithstanding these disadvantages, in the months 
 of July and August the eye will dwell, with a degree of pleasure, 
 on such few varieties of fertility and vegetation as the environs 
 may appear enriched with. 
 
 As already observed, it is generally three hours' travelling from 
 the Barrier to the village of Simplon. Our voiturler, (driver,) a 
 merry fellow, and everlasting votary of Bacchus, traversed this 
 distance in less than an hour, to reach the inn before other car- 
 riages on the road, and to secure the best beds. Our entertain- 
 ment was excellent, but dear enough, according to custom. He 
 had taken a glass extra, to sleep the better, but had left in the 
 stable a lamp, which set fire to some straw. Luckily, the master 
 of the house, going his usual rounds, discovered it time enough 
 to give the alarm of fire! His cries, with a voice like thunder, 
 roused every one from sleep. Our voiturier comes down, in his 
 shirt, bringing with him the servant maid Louisa, from an upper 
 garret. The landlord falls upon and beats him, rolling him in the 
 straw that had caught fire, and water arriving from all quarters, 
 the poor culprit was so inundated, that he thought the heavens 
 were opening for another deluge ; as yet he had scarcely come to 
 himself. The landlady falls on the servant, with heavy blows, that 
 fearfully resounded. We get the flames under, while the two 
 lovers are thus doing penance, and as we had further occasion for 
 one of them, we petitioned for pardon for both, which was grant- 
 ed, with some reluctance. The whole furnished a comic scene, 
 that reminded us of the droll interchange of pugilistic blows 
 between the Hero of La Mancha, the Muleteer, and Sancho, in 
 an inn, where a female servant gave occasion to the adventure. 
 
 Leaving the village of Simplon, as we proceeded towards Italy 
 we wind about a long circuit of road, to soften the descent. It 
 leads to the entrance of a wild gorge into which the torrents of La 
 Dovina fall, the road inclining to it, as towards an abyss. 
 
 Here we immediately enter into the first gallery on the side of 
 Italy; passing it we come to a Canline or house of refuge, which 
 serves also for an asylum to passengers, when exposed to the 
 tourmentes and the inclemencies of bad weather. 
 
 Here we contemplate a scene of great and infinite terror; the 
 imagination takes flight, soaring on the wings of wonder, at (he 
 
 I 
 
Journey through the Valais and Italy 49 
 
 ^^st climax, the continued chain of horrors. The Gorge is ex- 
 tremely narrow, the whole breadth of it being occupied by the chan- 
 nel of the torrent; not the slightest trace of vegetation ; immense 
 rocks rise on each side, that seem to touch the skies ; they resem- 
 ble two parallel walls, between which we advance, as through a pri- 
 son. Sterility pervades the entire solitude, and the sun-beams never 
 penetrate. 
 
 The road continues along the Live Rock, sometimes on the 
 left, sometimes on the right of the torrent, passing over some 
 neat stone bridges, till we arrive at the Second Cantine, and then 
 at the Grand GalJery. It extends 200 metres in length, is 30 
 feet high, and 30 feet broad, with two vast apertures over the 
 abyss, to let in day-light. The rock, through the interior of which 
 it penetrates, loses its head in the clouds, while its base reposes 
 at the bottom of an abyss, the depth of which tlie eye dares not 
 measure. In the execution of this enterprise, war was, as it were, 
 declared^ not only against the torrent, but against the terrific 
 masses of the rock itself. Security has been thereby afforded, 
 against avalanches, and the danger of floods. 
 
 The resounding of the horses' feet, and the wheels of car- 
 riages, under this superb vault, ring a change on the ear, the 
 combined effect of which is so powerful as to render it attractive 
 and pleasing. At its exit, or lower entrance, we discover a very 
 fine bridge over a torrent that forms a lengthened cascade, and 
 plpnges into La Doveria, at the bottom of the abyss. 
 
 On the vault of the gallery we read this simple inscription : 
 " iEre It^lo, 1805 ;" that is, the expenses of this construction 
 defrayed from the Italian revenue. In this the name of Bonaparte 
 appears prominent, and may be adverted to with the alluring 
 contemplation of a tutelary genius, a wise and benevolent 
 benefactor. 
 
 Going out of the great gallery, we continue descending along 
 the torrent, between bare, perpendicular rocks, of a sombrous co- 
 lour ; these are called the Solitudes of Gondo. Vegetation and life, 
 are here unknown, but after three hours' journey the traveller ar- 
 rives at Gondo, a wretched village, the buildings of which are 
 oddly constructed, and the inn, with its eight stories, and little 
 iron grated windows, looks like a prison. Under the village, 
 some scattered sun-beams glance, as by stealth, from the tops of 
 the rocks, to animate some little gardens, the leguminous 
 plants of which seldom arrive at maturity, 
 
 A quarter of a league lower, we pass by a chapel built on the 
 borders between Italy and the Valais. 
 
 In the contours of the road, should a number of carriages be 
 successively moving forward, at due distances, they would, inth^ 
 range of the eye, appear to be one above another. 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No, LI, Vol, IX. H 
 
50 MontemonVs Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 Half a league beyond the last-mentioned chapel is the village 
 of Issel, where Piedmontese Douaniers politely search your effects, 
 but are often troublesome enough. Here it is satisfactory to 
 behold nature somewhat improving, and the hand of man some- 
 what more successful, in fertilizing all around him. But every 
 where about the torrent it is still the contemplation of nature ; we 
 perceive birch-trees, smiling grass-plats, and, higher up, «ome 
 woods and copses of larch, with an endless number of cascades 
 and running waters, sportively bounding, in every possible 
 direction. 
 
 Soon after, we survey the delightful valley of Frontano,and the 
 village of that name situated in a bason enriched with vegetation 
 in a country profusely covered with farm-houses, cottages, arable- 
 lands, trees of all kinds, orchards, and a never-ceasing variety of 
 an increased population, and consequently cultured and fertile 
 spots. There is an alteration for elegance in the appearance of 
 handsome houses and spacious edifices ; architecture appears to 
 predominate as one of the characteristic traits of fair Italy. 
 
 To this consoling view succeeds anotherordinary, meagre, hard- 
 featured, and coarse, which I shall call the last scene of horror ; it 
 adjoins the last gallery, which has a large window over the torrent. 
 
 On clearing this gallery, the rocks, hitherto contiguous, widen 
 gradually and open to us a view of the magnificent bridge of Cre- 
 vola, extending from one mountain to the other, and closing up 
 the valley. It constitutes the last of the labours of Le Simplon. 
 
 From the bridge of Crevola we discover, at the end of a long 
 line of road, the town of Domo D'Ossola, small but very commer- 
 cial, and, as already observed, the first that can be called a town of 
 Italy, to those advancing along the new road. 
 
 I should have mentioned certain auxiliaries or appendages to 
 the route of Le Simplon, wherein the labours have been ver-y con- 
 siderable and costly. As in the lower Valais, blowing up the 
 rocks of Meillerie, and raising a causeway, 1500 feet in depth, 
 along rocks, on the banks of the Leman Lake. I can but 
 barely allude to the enormous expenditure in erecting a causeway 
 from Pomo D'Ossola to Sesto Calende, above lake Major ; the 
 road rises along it, 15 feet above the water, and it is protected 
 with a wall against the overflowing of the lake. In short, the 
 works of Le Simplon, and improvements of the route, speaking 
 generally, from Geneva to Milan, have cost upwards of twenty 
 million.s of francs. 
 
 The route from Paris to Geneva is 103 leagues, and from 
 Geneva to Milan /'I* 
 
 From Domo D'Ossola to Bavena, a town on the northern 
 bank of lake Major, is a distance of six leagues, through a 
 tine open champaign country. 
 
Journey through Italy, 51 
 
 LEriEll X. 
 
 LAKE MAJOR — THE BOROMEO ISLES — STATUE OF ST. CHAKLES 
 BOROMEO — THE LAKE OF COMO. 
 
 Arriving, at length, on the banks of Lake Como, where both 
 the towns and country assume a more cheerful look, where the 
 site of every place renders it pleasanter and more healthful, I 
 find my spirits cheered, and my toils repaid. Here, while taking 
 delightful walks on its shore, the sky unclouded, while command- 
 ing a fine view of the water, and its fertile banks, I seem to have 
 burst, as it were, by enchantment, into a fairy-land. Thisazure ex- 
 panse stretclies over an extent of from fifteen to sixteen leagues. 
 All around it appear towns and villages, hamlets, and country- 
 houses, with hillocks rich in the blessings of Ceres, Bacchus, 
 and all the rural gods. To these hillocks succeed, in the 
 back-ground, high mountains of the chain of the Alps, which, at 
 the east and south, lower by degrees down to the plains of Lom- 
 bardy ; towards the north they extend, with an augmenting ele- 
 vation, as far as to the silvered cimex of Mount Rose, almost as 
 high as Mount Blanc. 
 
 Tiiis ocean is not quite so tranquil as that of the Leman Lake. 
 It is subject to storms, as is the Lake of Como. It is, however, 
 more abundant in fish, particularly excellent trouts, and eels of 
 unsual magnitude. Its greatest breadth is two leagues and a half^ 
 a league less than that of the Lake of Geneva. 
 
 Lake Major receives a number of rivers, that appear to be en- 
 gulfed in its depths. These are waters that issue from the vast 
 contour of mountains, stretching from Mount Rose to St. Goth^ 
 ard to Le Simplon, to Le Bernardin, and Le Jorisberg. The 
 Tesin (Ticinus) issues from a lake to the S.E. near Sesto Calende, 
 and expanding into a wide channel, falls into the Po, a little 
 below Pavia. 
 
 Lake Major branches itself out into two parts. In the centre 
 of the northern branch, looking towards Le Simplon, appear the 
 delightful Boromeo Islands: they seemingly owe every thing to 
 nature, but in reality owe much to the curious works^ &c. which 
 art has constructed in imitation. 
 
 The Boromeo Isles are three in number — Isola Bella, the beau- 
 tiful island Isola Madre, Mother Island, and Isola dei Pesca- 
 tori. Fisherman's Island. They were naked barren rocks, when, 
 in 1 67 1, Prince Vitalien Boromeo, of Milan, had them covered 
 with earth, and decorated with ornaments, profusely flowing,^ 
 that form a living picture, that charm us with tlieir cheering 
 
52 Montemo7it*s Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 smiles, their flowery wreathes, the lovely dyes of rising spring 
 and summer. 
 
 Iscla Bella is within musket shot of the Road ; when first dis- 
 covered, it might seem an enchanted island, so much does exult- 
 ing genius glory in the graces, order, beauty of its ductile earthy of 
 its forms and shapes, in which art successfully moulds and polishes 
 fair nature, invoking the poets* song, and the plaudits of the critic. 
 Palaces, magnificent gardens, odoriferous trees, among which the 
 winds whisper gently, crystalline fountains, statues, groves, flow- 
 ers and flowering shrubs exceedingly beautiful — every thing here 
 has felt the influence of man, freely and frequently indulging ii\ 
 such novelties, variations, and inventions, as the most fertile imagi- 
 nation can abound in. The variety of sights, and the mixture of 
 trees and vaulted terraces, rising one above another, gradually 
 lessening and forming a sort of pyramid, on the southern side„ 
 fully display views on which the eye may gaze with rapture. 
 
 Approaching the Isola Bella we breathe an air embalmed with 
 the gales of Eden, the sweet perfumes of plants, our surprise at 
 which is so great, that the observation may be regarded, at first, 
 as among the most predominant of this place. The whole island 
 about the palace is covered with groves and enrobed in springing 
 green plantations of orange and citron-trees, cedar, laurel, cy- 
 press, rose bushes, myrrh, jasmine, and a thousand other sweet- 
 scented shrubs, of different colours, and young flowers that seem 
 always new. Oranges and citrons thrive here as well as in Sicily, 
 notwithstanding the difference of climate. The Acanthus, Vale- 
 rian, and Caper-tree grow naturally on the walls and gardens. 
 The vine also appears on the walls of the houses. 
 
 The art which created these beauties has taken no fleeting stand 
 here, but dwells, as in a safe retreat — art concealing art. 
 
 The interior of the palace breathes an air of luxury and Asiatic, 
 magnificence. The apartments, in whose storied walls the po- 
 lished fancy may for ever trace, clothing some new charm, the 
 brilliant execution and highly-finished drawings of the great mas- 
 ters, are not too highly elaborate for the general cast of the build- 
 ings, but flow into each other with much ease,— great skill and 
 contrivance appear in their construction. The grand saloon^ 
 newly embellished, offers striking specimens of the architect's sci- 
 ence and taste. But the most remarkable part of the palace is a 
 subterranean apartment, the columns, walls, and cieling of which 
 are lined with mosaics. On the floor, are statues of white marble ; 
 one of them represents a dolphin ejecting a fountain. The whole 
 palace and thie ten terraces, the highest of which rises a hundred 
 and twenty feet above the surface of the lake, are supported by 
 arched vaults that here take the name of carcase of the island. 
 
 From •these terraces we discover, on the south, Lavcnc, on the 
 
Journey through Italy. 53 
 
 cast, the hills of Varese and the beginning of the plains of Lom- 
 bardy on the west, the Fisherman's Island, and oh the north, the 
 icy summits of Mount Rose, Le Simplon, and certain points of St. 
 Gothard. 
 
 Near the palace of the Isola Bella, which the Boromeo family 
 repair to, in the fine season, is a little village consisting of Fisher- 
 men's houses; among them we find a pretty good inn. 
 
 In the vicinity, but nearer to Baveno, is the Fisherman's Island, 
 which, from the uncommonly simple style of its buildings, agree- 
 ably and happily contrasts with the spirited excellence and uniform 
 magnificence which in general characterise the Isola Bella. The 
 inhabitants live on the produce of their nets, but the fish of Lake 
 Major are not so docile to the hook, as some noticed by Ariosto 
 were to the voice of the fairy Alcina, though she had neither net 
 nor bait. 
 
 The houses of the Fisherman's Isle so press on rocks, that there 
 would hardly be the means of raising a vine arbour before them-. 
 They are overlooked by a steeple, which forms the prominent ob- 
 ject, and in the progression of curiosity, though it possesses no- 
 thii)g very new, seems pleasingly conceived to close the scene. 
 The manners of the inhabitants are strongly interesting, and dis- 
 cover much of that original simplicity which so pleasingly accords 
 with the subject of their labours. 
 
 Very few that visit the Boromeo Isles, deign to notice the Fish- 
 erman's — but had I a statue to erect to Happiness, I would con- 
 sign it with contentment, a certain quantity of which I have cal- 
 culated, to the worthy inhabitants of this island. Relief is afforded 
 to their few wants, and hence a relative union is introduced be- 
 tween a satisfaction far above mediocrity, and the whole of the 
 temper that distinguishes and accompanies them, 
 
 *' Latius regnes, avidum domando 
 " Spiritum, quam si Libyam remotis 
 *' Gadibus jungas, et iiterque I^oenus 
 " Serviat uni." 
 
 Command your desires, says Horace, and you will possess an 
 empire more spacious than if you |iad Libya added to the distant 
 Cadiz, and both African and Spanish Carthage forjned a part of 
 your dominion. 
 
 The third of the Boromeo Islands, Isola Madre, distant about 
 half a league from Isola Bella, towards the N.E. contains seven 
 terraces on which a palace has been raised. The climate is still 
 milder than that of Isola Bella, as under better shelter from bois- 
 terous winds, so that there is no need for covering t-ie orange 
 groves in winter. It is thickly planted with groves of orange and 
 laurel trees; we find also the superb cypress and rosemary trees 
 
54 Montemonfs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 of a considerable size. Pheasants and pinkadoes are pretty nu- 
 merous. The rural simplicity, rather familiar, of the island is of a 
 most popular cast, though without that importance and dignity 
 which result from the majestic march of grandeur, in the great 
 labours of the stately piles of Isola Bella. 
 
 J. J. Rousseau was for making theBoromeo Islands the residence 
 of his Julia, but, from finding too much of the art of man in them, 
 he gave preference to the Isle Bienna. So Voltaire preferred the 
 lake of Geneva, for a better reason, that a sage liberty fertilizes 
 its contiguous districts. In lake Major you see poverty on one 
 hand and excessive opulence on the other; the privileges of the 
 highest classes, and the people subject to humiliating distinctions 
 which degrade the condition of man. Equality of fortunes is an idea 
 that I scout, but equality before the law, the right of being subject 
 to it alone, that of expressing and writing our opinions, of chusiiig 
 our vocation and disposing of our property, of going and coming 
 without having to ask permission of a priest, the right of assem- 
 bling with other individuals to deliberate about our common in- 
 terests, and lastly, the right of every man to share in civil func- 
 tions, as well as another, be his rank or birth what it may, these are 
 no longer chimeras, but what we have reason to expect, and 
 may confidently look for, though from the ferocious and treacher- 
 ous character of despots, such an event may be retarded. The 
 French Revolution has left on thcmindand heart, exalted, fervent, 
 characteristic impressions, grave and slow in ripening, but greatly 
 superior to the light, transient, and volatile effects flowing from 
 the political manoeuvres of certain privileged families. 
 
 Night is coming on, and we must pay a visit to the statue of St. 
 Charles Boromco, which I espy on an eminence close to the road. 
 This colossal statue, representing a Cardinal Archbishop of Milan, 
 whose memory is held in great veneration throughout the north 
 of Italy, was erected about the year 1G97. It is 6*6 feet in height, 
 and the pedestal on which it rests has 46 additional. The head, 
 feet, and hands are of bronze, the rest of the body is copper; with- 
 inside is a mass of weighty stones to give stability to the figure. 
 It contains also an escalier to lead to the head. The hollow of 
 one of the little fingers is almost wide enough to include a man. 
 
 Hence we returned to the Route of Le Simplon, intending for 
 Sesto Calende, a little town of Lombardy, eight leagues from 
 Milan, at the southern extremity of Lake Major, seated on the left 
 bank of the Tesin, which we pass over by a boat for want of a 
 bridge. 
 
 It wilV>)e long ere I forget the delicious spectacle, the gay 
 changing scene we had, the same evening, from a window of our inn 
 at Sesto. By moon light we could distinctly recognize, to an im- 
 mense extent, the fair expanse of Heaven's blue vault, the bright 
 
Journey through Italy. 55 
 
 tints of that clear mirror of Lake Major, with fishing vessels 
 gliding through the smiling vale o'er the toh breast of the Tesiii, 
 their crews chanting evening songs, bold and unrestrained, as they 
 paced along its silver winding stream. To us, there dwelt a 
 charm in the free musings of tlieir sweet voices. 
 
 The Lake of Como is but three or four leagues from Lake 
 Major; it is 9 or 10 in length, and as many in breadth. It is 
 surrounded with mountains, and a number of rivers, tlie principal 
 of whieh^ the Adda, the Lira, and the Mera, flow into it. The 
 scenery of nature is grand, and all around the champain forms an 
 enchanting scene, when 'we survey the cultured gardens, the 
 verdant lawns, the soil which art has known how to chuse, as its 
 fairest, favourite residence fur nobler man. Navigation on the 
 lake is dangerous, from the squalls and pelting storms of wind 
 that, at times, ride over it. 
 
 Caroline, Queen of England, here courted tlie silent, calm re- 
 treats of contemplation. She has been charged with levities and 
 little immoralities, but these were surely gross and wilful mis- 
 representations, which we may attribute to certain designs, unjust 
 and insidious, fomented by those who had not the power to resist 
 corruption. Such a set of witnesses, in whom it was impossible 
 to place implicit confidence, nor could anyone be convinced, or de- 
 termined, by their testimony — unsanctioned, too, by the names of 
 any one person of character. As a matter of enquiry, the case was 
 not fully investigated, in, behalf of the defendant. - And what 
 could be expected by such as were anxious to know the truth and 
 had no other object in view, but a quashing of the prosecution ? 
 The dry non-solicited answer'ofNon mi Recordo, when the argu- 
 ments evidently applied to the circumstances and situations, will 
 not easily be forgotten : — none of us may live to witness the like 
 again. 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 MILAN, ITS SITUATION, CLIMATE, INDUSTRY, PUBLIC ESTABLISH- 
 MENTS, CHURCHES, PALACES, &;C. PAVIA. 
 
 In approaching Milan, the triumphal arches at the gates an- 
 nounce, in an imposing manner, the grandiose of the interior. It 
 is situated in the midst of a vast plain, watered by the Adda, the 
 Tesin, and a prodigious number of artificial canals. The city 
 was originally built by the Gauls, who, under Bellovasus, fixed 
 themselves in Italy, about the year of Rome, 170. After the 
 third Punic war, it was reduced, by the Romans, and was long 
 considered as their second city. Milan became, afterwards, that 
 
56 Montemoni's Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 theatre of bloody wars, being several times taken and destroyed, 
 l)ut ever rising a^ain from its ashes. As Hannibal, in Horace, 
 says of Rome, * Merses profundo, pulchrior evenit.* The city was 
 destroyed, by Attila, king of the Huas, afterwards taken by the 
 Goths, who massacred most of its inhabitants, was raised again 
 by Narses, taken by Belisarius, from the Ostrogoths, and reco- 
 vered by the latter in 539, who, by the sword and famine, cutoff 
 300,000 inhabitants. 
 
 After the reign of Charlemagne, the city flourished some time 
 in prosperity. In 116*2, it was besieged, by the Emperor Frede- 
 rick the First, surnamed Barbarossa, who razed it to the founda- 
 tions, on which he plowed and sowed salt. Under the protection 
 of Pope Alexandria, in 1171, it appeared again, as in triumph over 
 Barbarossa, and adopted a Republican Government. In toto, the 
 city sustained 42 sieges, and was taken 24 times. 
 
 In 17«'^*> the French established a republic here, under the 
 name of Cisalpine; in 1805, it was transformed into a monarchy, 
 and in 1814, Lombardy again passed under the Austrian dominion. 
 
 The territory of Milan resembles a delightful garden. The 
 soil is fertile, the air salubrious, though moist at times from the 
 rivers and canals that water it ; but these give it the appearance of 
 spring even in winter. Vegetables of all climates will readily 
 thrive there. 
 
 In respect of trade and manufactures, Milan is still one of the 
 first cities of Italy. Here are fabrics of steel, alabasters, leather, 
 ivory, silk, cotton, bronze, gilding and for goldsmith's work, also 
 for nia«'iing chocolate, hats, wax, corals, cutlery, cylinders, woollen 
 cloths, Cologne water, aqua-fortis, delft ware, paper, glass, &c. 
 Mathematical and astronomical instruments are brought here to 
 great perfection. Carving, engraving and sculpture, as also the 
 bookselling and printing businesses, are in a flourishing condition. 
 
 The palaces, churches, and public establishments, are very nu- 
 merous. The Cathedral, Palace of Arts, and the Theatre of La Scala, 
 are master-pieces of architecture. Here are public and private 
 libraries, cabinets of physics, observatories, lyceums, and schools 
 of every description. 
 
 The new monuments may contest the palm of splendour with 
 the ancient, and it is difficult to conceive how, in less than twelve 
 years, labour so considerable have been erected. 
 
 There are a number of hospitals for the sick and indigent, and 
 we see no sliocking extremes of opulence and miseiy, Milan be- 
 ing rather a city of industry than of luxury. 
 
 The Milanese is gentle, gay, sensible, and free, but without 
 rudeness. He has a taste and aptitude for the sciences and arts. 
 He receives strangers with politeness, is not averse to good cheer, 
 and enjoys public spectacles. Towards eveniog, in the prome- 
 
Journey through fluly. 57 
 
 oade, 500 coaches, of ^perior elegance, may be seen at a time. 
 The women are, in general, small but handsome. In summer 
 they hide half of their face with a veil to prevent being sun-burnt, 
 and to keep off insects. Their complexion is not so fair as that 
 of our Parisian belles. 
 
 The city is about 30,000 feet in circumference, and 9240 in 
 length. Its boulevards serves for promenades. The streets have 
 flagging for foot passengers, and the middle is so contrived that 
 carriages make no rattling noise. 
 
 The population is about 1 40,000. The hotels for lodging and 
 eating, in public or in private, are of all sizes and descriptions. 
 In a thousand other respects Milan may be hailed as the Paris of 
 Italy, the manners and fashions of Paris being also very prevalent. 
 
 The windows of ihe apartments which we occupied in the 
 liotel de I'Europe, in the centre of Milan, looked down on the 
 boudoir of a young Italian lady, that had but just reached her 
 fifteenth year. One of our fellow tourists was not the last to 
 remark this circumstance, and taking counsel only of that little 
 urchin cupid, he contrived to insinuate himself into her company, 
 and, as it should seem, to touch her sensibilites. He frequently 
 visited her, and as an obsequious cavalier, escorted her to the 
 promenades and spectacles. She spoke English, French, and 
 Italian fluently, which enhanced the satisfaction of her admirer. 
 Every morning early he might be seen, in a dishabille, under her 
 window, with his guitar, serenading the idol of his heart. 
 
 Something may be added in respect of the edifices. In the 
 palace of the Viceroy the interior is most magnificent. The 
 paintingSjin fresco and other similar embellishments, were execu- 
 ted under the government of Prince Eugene, whose memory is 
 held dear throughout Italy. The palace of sciences and arts is 
 the most beautiful and interesting in Milan. A portico of the 
 Doric order, and the grand staircase, are of a very superior archi- 
 tecture. The library contains about a hundred thousand volumes, 
 and many valuable MSS. Next to the library is the school of 
 engravings ; it has a collection of very interesting designs. The 
 palace of arts was distinguished by nothing remarkable till the 
 arrival of the French in Italy; it owes its present consequence to 
 Napoleon and Prince Eug2ne. The cathedral looks like an im- 
 mense quarry of marble, worked into shape ; it is in the Gothic 
 style, the architecture appearing rather odd than elegant. The 
 foundation was laid in 138(>, but it is not yet finished. The im- 
 mensity of the labours lavished on it by Napoleon is indescrib- 
 able. The dome, or cupola, overlooks 5000 pyramids, with a mul- 
 titude of statues and other embellishments drawn from the sacred 
 history. 
 
 Qf seventy churches in Milan, next to the cathedral, the most 
 
 Voyages and TaAVFxs Nv. LI, Vou IX. I 
 
58 1^ontemo7it*s Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 remarkable is that of St. Alexander. Ti.e fagade has marble 
 steps to it, and the principal altar is sprinkled with oriental agates, 
 jasper, and other precious stones. The Ambrosian library is one 
 of the most ancient of Italy. Besides a number of MSS. here is 
 a volume of the history of Josephus, on Egyptian papyrus, a Virgil 
 with notes, in the hand of Petrarch, the code of Leonard de Vinci, 
 some MSS. of Pindar, Sophocles, Bschylus, and Euripides, the 
 original Cartoon of the school of Athens, by Raphael. Some 
 paintings of Michael Angelo, &c. The library contains about 
 100,000 volumes. 
 
 The Great Theatre is one of the first in Europe, for extent, 
 richness of decorations, spectacles, dances, ballets, and the skil- 
 ful selection of the orchestra. There are six rows of boxes, large, 
 convenient, and superb in their ornaments. One might lose one's 
 self in the parterre (pit), and I was struck with astonishment on 
 entering it. 
 
 In the Champ de Mars, where 80,000 men might manoeuvre, is 
 A noble amphitheatre, one side of which commands a view of 
 the troops, and the other that of the horse races and gymnastic 
 exercises. It may hold 30,000 spectators, on ten rows of seats, 
 and was built by order of Napoleon. 
 
 In the environs of Milan, distant about half a league, is an 
 echo of a truly singular description. It proceeds from an old 
 charter house now abandoned, and when any sound is emitted 
 from the window of a second story (for anywhere else it is mute) 
 the repetitions are so rapid and frequent that, sometimes, it is 
 hard to count them. The voice will be heard again, at least, ten 
 times, and the report of a musket thirty-six. 
 
 Beyond the echo, at the distance of another half league, is the 
 country house of the Litta family. It would require a volume to 
 describe the riches of art and nature displayed in the palace and 
 adjacent grounds. The grottoes reminded me of those depicted 
 by Fenelon, as occupied l)y Calypso and her nymphs. 
 
 At Somma we are shewn an enormous Cyprus tree, the trunk 
 of which measures thirteen feet in circumference. Near it, ac- 
 cording to the report of tradition, 230 years prior to the christian 
 cera, Hannibal, with his elephants and a numerous cavalry, pass- 
 ed the Ticinus, wounded one of the Scipios, and drove his army 
 out of the field. 
 
 The city of Pavia is about ten little leagues from Milan. We 
 proceed to it along a very noble road well shaded. All around 
 appear canals of irrigation, which diffuse coolness and fertility 
 throughout the country. About three leagues from Binasco, on 
 the left of the road, is the Charter House of Pavia, an immense 
 structure, commenced in 1396*, and not finished till some ages 
 after, but now deserted. It was one of the finest residences in 
 
Journey through Italy, 59 
 
 Lombardy. Two leagues further on is the city of Pavia, situated 
 in a vast plain on tlie banks of the Tesin. The Tower is yet to 
 be seen, wherein the unfortunate Boethius was confined. The 
 ferocious Theodorick, of odious memory, after putting to death 
 the father of the poet, was seized with remorse, and, according to 
 common fame, thought he saw tl)e head of his victim in that of 
 a pike served up at his table next day. 
 
 Pavia has some fine buildings, the streets are broad and straight. 
 The University contains a rich library, a museum, a cabinet of 
 physics, and a garden of plants. The territory is so fertile that 
 it is commonly called the garden of the Milanese. 
 
 Why, alas ! in these fine countries, should the public spirit be 
 corrupted, the only sources of moral and political instruction be 
 diverted from their purposes, so as to deteriorate the general 
 character of the inhabitants, merely to cloke the faults of ineffi- 
 cient and unprincipled governments ? 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 PROM MILAN TO TURIN — GENERAL OBSERVATIONS — NOVARB. 
 VERCEIL — ^TURIN, AND ITS ENVIRONS — MILITARY RECOL- 
 LECTIONS IN PIEDMONT. 
 
 QrjiTTiNG the capital of Lombardy, our next route will be that^^ 
 Piedmont. From Milan to Turin commonly passes for one day s 
 post travelling. Nothing remarkable appears on the road, and 
 the sooner we traverse it the belter. Beggars innumerable assail 
 you, of every description, at and in the inns, at the ferries, with 
 postillions and their masters, &c. &c. To come here without 
 money a traveller would hardly escape dying of famine. What a 
 fine climate but what an expenditure of money, what an exhaus- 
 tion of chagrin to pass through it; Montesquieu says, "see 
 Italy in a transient visit, think and meditate in England, travel in 
 Germany, but live in France.'* " Voyez I'ltalie, pensezen Angle- 
 terre, voyagez en AUemagne, et vivez en France.'* 
 
 The author of the Spirit of Laws had a purse open for the 
 wretched, but was not fond of plenary indulgences that were 
 to be paid for. Before he left Rome he went to take leave of 
 Pope Benedict XIV., who felt an esteem for his personal and 
 intellectual merits. Said the Pontiff, " my dear president, be- 
 fore we part, accept some pledge of my friendship, t authorize 
 you, de faire grasy to be excused froni meagre days for the rest 
 of your life. Montesquieu thanked the pope, and bade him 
 adieu. The chamberlain bishop then conducted him to the 
 
60 M(mtemont*s Tour over tlie Alps and m Italy, 
 
 Datary's Office, where the bull of dispensation was expedited 
 for him, accompanied with a rather chargeable note of expenses 
 for this singular privilege. Montesquieu alarmed at the amount 
 returns the brevet to the secretary, with these words ; " I 
 thank his holiness for his benevolence, but the Pope is^of a 
 truly honourable character — I refer to his word, and my con- 
 Bcience will sanction me herein." 
 
 Madame de Frenoy, in one of her novels, considers Italy as 
 a place of exile to a Frenchman. She was delighted with the 
 country of Lombardy, and thought it another Eden — but every 
 where, even at Milan, with the music celestial of its cpera, 
 with all the magnificence of its entertainments, the monotonous 
 ceremonial of the people wearied her. The most exquisite 
 wine could not elicit from them a sprightly sally or repartee, 
 and she regretted the dinners of Paris. The Milanese ladies, 
 she says, have more beauty than grace ; they excite admiration 
 but do not please. In the theatres the actors were always 
 actors, and never the characters they would represent. 
 
 What would she have said had she been expose;! as we were 
 to the rapacity of Cisalpine and Piedmontese vultures ? 
 
 The first town on the road from Milan to Turin is Novare, 
 or Novara. It is far, indeed, from being handsome, but con- 
 tains streets of considerable length. Whether arising from 
 taxes, or other circumstances, the inhabitants bear the impress 
 of such as tind themselves in no pleasant situation, with but a 
 scanty stock of individual enjoyments. 
 
 We breakfasted at Verceil, the head place of the ancient de- 
 partn)ent of La Sesia. It is a pretty large town, but dirty 
 enough and ill built. We paid dear at the Auberge, being taken 
 for English, who are always charged dearer than others. 
 
 We arrived at Turin on the same day, and alighted at the 
 hotel de rUnivers. Here the entertainment corresponded with 
 exterior appearances. Splejjdid apartments, rich furniture, 
 exquisite perfumes to regale the sense, highly flavoured meats, 
 for epicures, with the wines of Asti and Casal, and the delici- 
 ous liqueurs of Turin. 
 
 This metro[)olis is regularly built, very handsome, and per- 
 haps, the most elegant of all the cities of Italy. The situation 
 is in a charming plain, at the confluence of the Doira and the 
 Po ; running water is distributed from a sluice, and the streets 
 are kept constantly clean. They are uniformly straight, and 
 the principal ones lead up to the grand place de la Co/^r, where- 
 in our inn was situated. In the centre of this is a palace, 
 which would be better elsewhere than here. About it, embank- 
 ed against two of its walls, are barracks, rather offensive from 
 misery being so nearly contrasted with opulence. 
 
Journey through Italy. 61 
 
 The street of the Po has arcades very convenient, and well 
 set out with shops ; it leads to the new bridge over the river, 
 constructed in the time of the French. It is a magnificent 
 work, entirely in the Roman style. A report prevails, that the 
 king of Sardinia, in 1814, returning from the island of that 
 name, would not pass over it becp.use it was a monument of 
 the usurper. If this anecdote be stated right, it was not in the 
 natural order of things, and does not savour much of magna- 
 nimity. 
 
 The street of La Doira is very long, and has neat flagging for 
 foot passengers; with its reverberating lamps, especially on 
 the night of an illumination, joined to other accidental orna- 
 ments, an effect is produced that may be counted truly elegant. 
 
 The promenades may rival those of Milan in beauty, both on 
 the side of Rivoli, and along the banks of the ancient Eridanus, 
 which rolls majestically, scattering plenty through the plains 
 of Piedmont. The great theatre is not so spacious as that of 
 Milan, and is but seldom opened. Taste and coolness reign in 
 the interior. The little theatre of Carignan is open every night. 
 The architecture of the palaces and houses is every where ex- 
 cellent, and the environs of the town prove a rich collection of 
 new kinds of objects to characterise and illustrate the survey. 
 The palace of Stupinis, three little leagues from the city, is 
 uncommonly handsome, and becomes the residence of the 
 court in summer. The chateau of La Superga, on an emi- 
 nence on the other side of the river, is well deserving of atten- 
 tion ; it is I he burying place of the sovereigns of Piedmont. 
 
 In the city is a public library, and an academy, which has 
 been dignified by »he learned and scientific labours of many 
 eminent characters. Medicine is cultivated here very success- 
 fully, and the arsenal and printing offices will repay the trouble 
 of inspection. But what a disproportion between the industry 
 of this city and that of Milan. Comparatively speaking, the 
 streets of the former seem deserted, while the latter are every 
 where thronged with the busy hum of men. In point of ex- 
 tent, Milan occupies more than twice as much ground as 
 Turin ; Milan is all business and life, Turin a beautiful statue, 
 but cold and inanimate. Its scientific establishments are also 
 few in number. If we rate Milan as the Paris of Italy, Turin 
 may be its Nancy or Manheim. 
 
 The women at Turin are generally handsome and amiable, 
 nor are they deficient in wii, but their Piedmontei:e jargon 
 and disagreeable accent, re|)el the magic charm of their im- 
 pressive tongues, and forbid the high-prized beauty to point 
 the dart, to thrill the bosom, to ensnare and wound the breast 
 of taste, A secret also n)ay be found in the vivacity of the 
 
6'2 MonternonCs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 Milanese ladies ; with a due leaning, however, to the liberal 
 side, the characters of the Picdmontese belles are not entirely 
 devoid of it. 
 
 Turin was formerly encircled with ramparts. The French 
 demolished or converted them into promenades. Nothing of 
 its fortifications remains, but the citadel raised on a little rising 
 ground near the city. 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 GENOA AND ITS ENVIRONS — GULF OF SPEZZIO — ALEXANDRIA 
 AND MARENGO. 
 
 Our original intention was to return from Turin directly 
 into France, but recollecting the little distance to Genoa, and 
 that we had felt regret for not visiting Venice, we changed our 
 preconcerted resolution. 
 
 A striking analogy pervaded the character of the two cities ; 
 both had upheld a distinguished figure in modern history, 
 their formSvOf government were similar, both had been pursu- 
 ing the career of commercial and naval grandeur, both had 
 magnificent ports and buildings in accordance with their pris- 
 tine opulence, and both had acquired foreign dominion in the 
 east and in the Mediterranean. Both cities had at times 
 changed masters, and both had now passed under a foreign 
 yoke. 
 
 Genoa is raised on the shores of the Mediterranean, at the 
 extremity of a gulf, to which it gives its. name. It is em- 
 banked against a mountain of the Apennines, and appears like 
 an amphitheatre, placed between two torrents, or rivers, one 
 called Bisagno, and the other Polcevera. The eastern coast 
 extends to the gulf of Sj)ezzia, and the western to the princi- 
 pality of Monaco. From whatever quarter we arrive at" the 
 capital of Liguria, either by water or land, the perspective is 
 admirable. This effect is produced by the nutnber of palaces 
 and houses of pleasure, or country houses, that look down from 
 the eminences, and seem to form a part of the city. Round 
 about the port it is semicircular, and the nnevenness of the 
 surface gives to the whole the look of an amphitheatre. Its 
 tide-washed shore, decked with towers, art screening and 
 shadowing naked nature with many a touch of her hand, so as 
 to disclose a general metamorphosis, will appear to the great- 
 est advantage at the distance of about a mile at sea. Surveyed 
 hence, it would be unjust to refuse it the title oi superb^ which 
 it enjoyed in the days of its independence and prosperity. 
 
Journey through Italy, 63 
 
 Genoa, besides some fortifications, has two walls. The 
 outer one, be^un in 1626, takes in a compass of twelve miles 
 on the elevations of the mountain. The interior one is of 
 about six miles. Between the two walls are different forts, 
 known by the names of Richlieu, Les Eperons, Les Rats, &c. 
 In 1800, the city sustained a siege under Massena, nor would 
 he capitulate to the Austrians and lord Keith, till reduced to 
 the last extremity by disease and hunger. 
 
 The streets are remarkably narrow, and it is but in a few of 
 them that carriages can pass. The houses rise to the height 
 of six stories ; hence the sun-beams never irradiate the ground 
 or level of the streets. In this respect it is the Grand Cairo of 
 Italy, for there the streets are also very narrow, and the houses 
 very high. Formerly all the houses were decorated in front, 
 with paintings in fresco, but of these nothing is now seen but 
 a few fragments. On the tops of the houses is a terrace in 
 lieu of roofing. In the evenings they take the fresh air there, 
 and have little beds of orange and citron trees, with flowers 
 that, at Genoa, thrive in all seasons. There are three streets 
 remarkable for their extent and beauty, and may, in fact, be said 
 to constitute one, from the Gate St. Thomas to that of L'Acqua 
 Sola. These three become promenades, and have a sort of 
 causeways, but not raised. The first is called Strada Balbi, the 
 second Strada Novissima, and the third Strada Nuova. It is 
 this last that Dupaty, in his letters on Italy, considers as the 
 finest on the surface of our globe. These, and the others, are 
 in general paved with broad flag stones, as in the galleries of 
 the Palais Royal at Paris. Fame reports that these formerly 
 were of the lavas of Mount Vesuvius. The streets are always 
 clean, from a number of gutters and common sewers that have 
 their outlets in the sea. 
 
 The air here is very pure, and the water is excellent ; this 
 last is conveyed by a superb aqueduct, about four leagues in 
 length. A number of monumental fountains recall some sub- 
 ject of mythology ; besides which, there are, as at London, 
 conduits, or works, which sometimes furnish a sufficient quan- 
 tum to every house. 
 
 The port is very capacious, and the largest ships of war 
 might find anchorage in it. On the top of a high tower, 
 mounted on a rock, appears a pharos, or light-house, for ves- 
 sels that arrive in the night ; near it is the lazaretto, which 
 exhibits nothing remarkable. 
 
 In the eastern part of the harbour is the " Free Port," where 
 the merchants have their magazines. It is encompassed with 
 walls, and may be considered as isolated. It forms the en- 
 trep6t of all foreign merchandise that comes to Genoa, and is 
 
64 Montemont's Tuuv over the Alps and m Italy, 
 
 hence transported to Switzerland and Germany. The porters 
 here are very troublesotne, elbowing and pushing, loaded or 
 not, and turninc^ out of the way for none. 
 
 The arsenal still retains the arms and cuirasses of certain 
 Genoese dames that had taken the cross, in 1301, on a military 
 pilgrimage to the Holy Land. ^J"'he pope advised them to con- 
 tribute, by their purses ; he was thinking of money, their en- 
 thusiasm was aspiring to deeds of heroism. Here is the 
 rostrum of a vessel of antiquity, and a sample of leather, of the 
 most original invention. 
 
 The churches are thirty-nine or forty in number; all are 
 handsome, but those of St. Lawrence and Carignan are the 
 most distinguished. The former is as old as the year 260 of 
 the Christian sera ; it is faced with black and white marble 
 within and without, and paved with the same. In the sacristy 
 they pretend to shew the emerald vase that formed a part of 
 the presents offered by the queen of Sheba to Solomon. Mar- 
 vellous cures and conversions were ascribed to it. The 
 Carignan is one of the masterpieces of Perugino, and stands on 
 a height which overlooks the sea and the whole amphitheatre 
 of Genoa. Its architecture and ornaments are noi)le and solid ; 
 the form is that of a Greek cross. Before the principal en- 
 trance appears a bridge of several arches, connecting the hill 
 of Carignan with that of Sarzano. It was raised at the charge 
 of a descendant of the founders of the church. Its height is 
 so considerable, that all the houses underneath, which are six 
 or seven stories high, do not reach to the twentieth part of it. 
 In the church of the Annunciad, I observed the tomb of the 
 Due de Bouflflers, who died at Genoa, in 1747? commanding a 
 body of French troops sent to succour the republic. 
 
 There are several charitable foundations at Genoa; the prin- 
 cipal is the albergo dei povcri, or asylum for the poor. The 
 profusion of marble columns, staircases, statues, &c. is won- 
 derful. They are ascribed to the ostentation of certain Patri- 
 cian families, that would successively commemorate individual 
 benefactors. The albergo is an immense building, and serves 
 both for a house of charity and one of correction. Some parts 
 are appropriated to licentious females. 
 
 As to palaces, forty or fifty are reckoned within the city. 
 The palace Negro is all of niarble; that of the mint has some 
 valuable antiquities, that of the Jesuits is no less beautiful than 
 spacious ; the inner court is embellished with marble columns, 
 escaliers, and galleries of the greatest magnificence. The 
 front of the palace Durazzo seems immense, and looks like the 
 residence of a sovereign prince rather than of a private person. 
 The palace Carega carries also a royal splendour with it, and 
 
Journey through Itafy, 65 
 
 the same may be said of the palace Doria ; the situation of 
 the last is one of the finest in the world. The theatres do not 
 correspond with the elegance of the other buildings ; they are 
 alike incommodious for the spectator and the spectacle. 
 
 Commerce and industry are the deities of the Genoese ; they 
 excel in working silk, velvet, and hosiery ; their artificial 
 flowers are in high vogue throughout the continent. Oils, 
 oranges, and citrons, form a considerable branch of commerce. 
 Cedrats, an ever-green, ever loaded with flowers and fruit, 
 and of an odoriferous scent, constitute the chief ornaments of 
 their gardens. 
 
 The inhabitants are devotees in appearance, but sceptics in 
 reality, and ardent votaries of Plutus. In former times, stil- 
 lettoes were instruments of many illegal acts, and sicaires^ pro- 
 fessional assassins, here, as in some other countries of Italy, 
 were ready to execute any order of a noble, inscribed in the 
 golden book. The nobles had also satellites, called Sbirri, 
 who, though a part of the police and guard, would ever second 
 the hostile animosities of their masters. The wives and 
 daughters of these Sbirri were subservient to the debauches of 
 the noble class, and popular prejudices existed in favour of 
 those Genoese houries. The Sbirri formed an isolated cast, 
 but such distinctions have now disappeared ; thanks to the 
 French Revolution, and to the light which it has diffused. 
 
 The Genoese ladies copy the Parisian modes ; their dress, in 
 general, is truly neat and elegant. There is no want of dia- 
 monds and jewels, but the parade dress is black. They are 
 remarkable for a veil called mezzaro, which forms a substitute 
 for the hat of the French ladies. They are addicted to still, 
 rather than bustling pleasures ; their eyes and complexion en- 
 hance their other embellishments. 
 
 The man of their confidence is here called their sigisbeo, or 
 patito ; he ministers to their pleasures, and becomes a major 
 domo. But they have credit for entertaining correspondence 
 with others, unknown to their confidant. After about a year's 
 marriage, the wives seldom stay with their husbands, who, 
 moreover, are sure to set the example of parting. 
 
 The priests maintain a considerable influence over the com- 
 mon people. They reckon at Genoa 21 confreries, that everV 
 3rd of May march in grand procession about a large machiij^" 
 called the cassa^ that is surmounted with statues, and widi its 
 accompaniments, makes a weight that 30 men c«ii scarcely 
 carry. 
 
 In the time of the Republic, the Doge po^sSessed great au- 
 thority, but his responsibility was no less. His election was 
 only for three years. In the hour wherein his fupctions ex^ 
 
 Voyages cmd Travels, iV^o, LI, Vol, IX. K 
 
6Q MontemonVs Tour over the Alps and in Italy. 
 
 pired, at the sounding of a great bell, he threw off his robes of 
 dignity, and, clad as a simple citizen, appeared at the bar of the 
 Senate, in the presence of the assembled people. There 
 he was bound to reply to any accusations that might be urged, 
 and if convicted of injustice, be the complainant who he might, 
 he must make reparation on the spot. 
 
 The environs of Genoa are extremely picturesque. The 
 valley of Bisagno and that of Polcevera are overspread with 
 palaces and country houses, many of which are from designs, 
 by Michael Angelo, especially that called Paradise. 
 
 Not far from Genoa is the Gulf of Spezzia, completely a 
 work of nature, and every where deep enough for the reception 
 of vessels of the largest dimensions; according to some histories 
 it was the port of the ancient city of Luni, a flourishing Etru- 
 rian colony, till swallowed up by the sea. 
 
 Now, again, we resume the route of Turin, leaving some 
 towns on the right and left, but tarrying for a moment at Alex- 
 andria. It is situated on the Tanaro, and passes for one of 
 the strongest places in Europe. For this it is indebted to the 
 French, but nothing else appears remarkable, except the hotel 
 de Ville, or Town Hall, which is a decent structure. Near 
 Alexandi'ia was fought the battle of Marengo, which decided 
 the fate of Italy, and compelled Austria and Naples to sue for 
 peace. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 RETURNING TO FRANCE BY MOUNT GENEVRE, PIGNEROL, PB- 
 ROUSA, &C. — FENESTRELLE, &C. — MOUNT GENEVRE — THE HOS- 
 PITIUM— SOURCE OF THE DURANCE AND THE DOIRE — BM- 
 BRUN — GAP — FROM GAP TO GRENOBLE. 
 
 To return hence into France, there are two roads : one 
 passes from Mount Cenis, through Savoy, the other from 
 Mount Genevre, through the department of the Upper Alps. 
 The former is the finest and most frequented, the other exhi- 
 bits more of nature's various and original models. Of these, 
 from the liveliness of our imaginations, we had become passion- 
 a^^cly enamoured, and led on by our love for the wonderful, we 
 gave j^reference to the latter. Mount Cenis is but a miniature 
 of Le SimJ»lon, and besides, curiosity pressingly solicited us to 
 undertake ai7other and different excursion, to Urian9on and 
 Grenoble, as coiHaining materials more interesting to the ge- 
 neral tourist than CUumbcrry. 
 
Returning to France. 67 
 
 We then hired a voiture, that through the valley of Pignerol 
 conveyed us in two days from Turin to Brianyon, a foriified 
 place in the northern flank of Mount Genevre, the distance 
 about 20 leagues. 
 
 On the first day we breakfasted at* Pignerol, a town of Pied- 
 mont, agreeably situated in a fertile valley of the same name. 
 It is rather small, but very commercial, and the inhabitants 
 feel the full effect of their activity in the valuable benefits 
 which it produces, comfortably enjoying the fruits of their 
 industr3% 
 
 Proceeding from Pignerol to Fenestrelle, we observed, with 
 singular pleasure, the views improving, into the spirit of which 
 we could well enter. 
 
 Half way from Pignerol to Fenestrelle, we come to the vil- 
 age of Perousa, Mount Viso terminating one extremity of its 
 valley. This gigantesque mountain, whose inaccessible peak 
 is constantly covered with snow, maybe seen at very great dis- 
 tances in the interior of Italy. At the foot of this peak are the 
 sources of the Po, issuing from a rock; its waters at first, dis- 
 tinguished by their easy flow, descend into the Valley of Sal- 
 luce, increasing into a large brook, then a river, and soon, by 
 tributary torrents, that pour from every quarter into it, be- 
 come a King of Floods, bounding through the plains of Piedi- 
 mont till finally absorbed in the Adriatic. 
 
 The Col of Mount Viso, close to the peak, is also covered 
 with snow throughout the year. This proving an inconve- 
 nience to travellers, the Princes of Salluce, about the year 1100 
 caused a vaulted way to be cut through the mountain, about 
 half a league from its cimex, that is w^here the snow begins, so 
 as not to be obliged to clear it. This subterraneous route, 
 which is now abandoned, is 8 feet high by as many broad; in 
 length, it extends nearly a quarter of a league. 
 
 It was in the valley of Perousa and Pignerot, that a number 
 of French Protestants took refuge, when persecuted, after the 
 Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. 
 
 From Perousa it is but two or three hours' journey to Fene- 
 strelle, a large village at the foot of the mountain of Sestriere. 
 It is a strong place, and guards the entrance of Piedmont, be- 
 ing also a receptacle for state prisoners. Luckily we only 
 stopped a night in it, lodging in a wretched auberge, pell 
 niell, with soldiers, peasants, and drunken fellows. The mis- 
 tress helped us to a supper and some wine, called by the name 
 of the country, but both alike detestable. 
 
 At Fenestrelle nature appears almost as savage as the jailer 
 of the prison and the inhabitants ; but leaving the village and 
 ascending the Col of Sestriere, we find a more pleasing vein 
 
66 Montemont'^ Tvur over t/te Alp$ and in Italy. 
 
 and agreeable turns of her fancy, smooth, placid, and easy, if 
 not particularly engaging, in sequestered groves of larches, 
 meadows, fields and attractive verdure. 
 
 From Fenestrelle to Brianc;on, we have to pass two Cols, 
 that of Sestriere, and that of Mount Gen^vre. Here we have 
 to ascend, descend, re-ascend and re-descend. 
 
 It is three hours' journey from Fenestrelle to the top of the 
 Col de Sestriere; it takes nearly the same time in the descent, 
 when we find ourselves at Sezanne, a Piedmontese village at 
 the foot of Mount Genevre. It has acquired notoriety from 
 the rigour of the Douane officers, in their official visits, and 
 its terrible swarms of lice. At breakfast, our whole company 
 was placed in a state of siege ! lice were running about and get- 
 ting under the petticoats of some ladies that were with us. In 
 all haste, we took leave of this fatal village. 
 
 Ascending through woods of larches, in about two hours, wc 
 arrive at the top of the Col de Genevre. Here we find two 
 villages, one on the side of Italy, and the other on the French 
 part. We halted at this last to undergo examination by the 
 Galilean Douaniers, who were not quite so rough as their 
 neighbours. 
 
 Near the village of Mount Genevre stands an obelisk, com- 
 memorating the opening of the new road by Napoleon, that 
 passes over the mountain. Opposite, and concealed in a grove 
 of larches, is the source of the Durance and the Doira ; both 
 issue hence, the fornjer proceeding towards France, and the 
 latter towards Piedmont. 
 
 In this village is an hospitium, where, as at St. Bernard, Le 
 Simplon, and Mount Cenis, travellers that call are entertained 
 with cordial hospitality. 
 
 While the Douaniers were inspecting our carriage, a man, 
 who called himself a soldier and an ex-courier, accosted us, 
 telling us we must make haste, if intending for BriauQon that 
 night, for, added he, the gates will be shut very early. I was 
 no stranger to the distance, and well knowing that there was 
 no auberge about Brianyon, except one or two little pot-houses 
 in a village called St. Margaret, and both 1 and my companions 
 being surfeited with the fare of some wretched hotclleries, we 
 accepted the offer of the ex-courier, who proposed to lead us. 
 He sets off like lightning, we follow him at n distance, along 
 numerous turnings made by the road, which descends the 
 northern flank of Mount Gencivre. In less than an hour our 
 man arrives at the end of his course, and waiting on the king's 
 lieutenant in a vein of ill-timed pleasantry, would have him 
 believe thut wo were personages of superior consequence, and 
 desiring that the gates might be kept open soaie time longer. 
 
Returning to France, 69 
 
 The fellow persuades almost as readily as Nestor would of 
 old. The good-natured commandant, willing to oblige, dis- 
 patches his adjutant with orders to shut the gate of Italy half 
 an hour later. 
 
 The lieutenant was preparing to compliment our highnesses, 
 while, in the mean time, we had arrived at the foot of the ram- 
 parts, with a very indifferent dismantled voiture, and two sorry 
 jades of horses. 
 
 It was the hour of the Angelus ; the bells were ringing their 
 double chimes, the drums were beating the retreat, and the sol- 
 diers of the post were under arms. We make our entrance, the 
 courier being a little at the head of our carriage. No sooner was 
 the gate opened, than we were beset like strange wild beasts, 
 but with respect, the military being anxious to learn where we 
 wished to lodge. We refer to an hotel that I well knew, and 
 they attend us thither, people of all ranks going and coming, 
 with a sort of distracted attention. We knew not what to 
 make of this bustle, but coming to within a few steps of the 
 hotel, we were forced to alight, from the cragged nature of 
 the streets of Brianyon. The hotel was thronged, and we had 
 to force our passage through. The master comes to salute us, 
 hat in hand, with profound reverences. He instantly knows 
 me, and introduces us. " Ah, Sir," he exclaimed, " you are 
 become a prince!" "How! explain yourself," 1 rejoined. 
 " Your courier has announced you as relations of the royal 
 family." 
 
 We laughed heartily at this mauvaise plaisanferie, but im- 
 mediately sent forward our passports to the commandant, then 
 attired in his grand uniform, and preparing to harangue our 
 highnesses. On leading the passports, and learning the real 
 particulars from our maitre d'hotel, he fell into a violent fit of 
 laughter, but the author of the joke had to pass a night in 
 prison for his pains, our intercession for the culprit proving 
 fruitless. 
 
 Brianyon is a very strong place, having on its ramparts and 
 in its forts, three hundred pieces of cannon. The principal 
 forts are on the flank of a mountain, the crest of which is 
 7800 feet above the level of the sea ; it has a fort on it. A 
 superb bridge of a single arch, over the Durance, forms a com- 
 munication between the town and the forts. The town is 
 built on rocks, so steep that carriages cannot descend them ; 
 they stop near the church, in the higher part of the town. 
 
 The inhabitants are very industrious, and with much infor- 
 mation have no less address. They breathe a pure air in these 
 mountains, and are strangers to provincial vices. A love of 
 liberty pervades their character. 
 
70 MontemonCs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 In the fair season the men go abroad for employment, in coun- 
 tries more favoured by nature ; the old men and wives cul- 
 tivate the lands. The women, with a cart and an ass, do the 
 heaviest work nearly as well as the men. 
 
 In the Upper Brian(;onnois bread is made for a year. In 
 winter the inhabitants have their kitchens and beds close to 
 the cattle and stables. Their bed clothes are mostly woollen, 
 cloths, washed only every six months; owing to the rigour of 
 the season, which keeps the waters frozen, and will not allow 
 the bleaching of linen. 
 
 Towards Le LotariS wood is so scarce that they make a sort 
 of cakes of cow-dung for winter fuel. 
 
 It would be difficult to express the satisfaction with which 
 the natives return to their rocks and cabins after a temporary 
 absence. In the long evenings they rehearse what they have 
 seen and heard, and thus beguile the tardy hours. 
 
 Departing from Brianyon to proceed for Embrun, we took 
 no small delight in contemplating, above the village of Labecey, 
 some traces that were shewn us of the route that Hannibal 
 had taken. 
 
 From La Roche, a little village famous for its trout, where 
 we breakfasted, we passed on to Fort Mount Dauphin, a work 
 of the famous Vauban, as are those of Brianron. It defends 
 the plain on the side of the Durance, as it does also the valley 
 of Queyras, one of the wildest but most interesting of the 
 Upper Alps. The rocks approach so close, in the passage from 
 Guillestre, to Fort Queyras, that they threaten a downfall on 
 the traveller's head. In winter this passage is very dangerous 
 from the very frequent fall of avalanches. This valley brings 
 to mind the solitudes of Gondo, in Le Simplon. 
 
 From Mount Dauphin we descend to Embrun, a town con- 
 taining about 3000 inhabitants ; it is built on the back of a 
 vast rock, washed by the Durance. Here was formerly an 
 archbishop, who, at one time, bore the title of Primate of the 
 Gauls. At present it seems only a remnant of its ancient 
 splendour. 
 
 Proceeding through the large village of Ghorge, about three 
 leagues below Embrun, and reported to have been a conside- 
 rable place in the time of the Romans, the first town we come 
 to is Gap, head place of the department of the Upper Alps. It is 
 ill built but has fine walks about it. In the cha))el of the 
 church is a superb marble monument to the memory of the 
 Constable de Lesdiguieres, who was born in the environs. 
 
 It was through the town of Gap, lying on the high road from 
 Marseilles to Grenoble, that Napoleon passed, in lyl6, when 
 returning from the Isle of Elba. 
 
Returning from France. Ji 
 
 The passage from Gap to Grenoble is altogether mountain- 
 ous, over a very fine road but bordered with tremendous pre- 
 cipices. Here are points where fifty, men with cannon might 
 repel a whole army. My companions were not backward in 
 remarking this, and wondered that he was not arrested in his 
 march. I was at that time employed in the Alps, and ean 
 vouch for the following fact. 
 
 A battalion of 600 men of royal guards, was stationed at 
 this Gallic Thermopylae. General Cambrone, their commander, 
 retreated, having orders not to oppose force to force. Bona- 
 parte advances, solus, to the 600 men. " Qui vive ?" they 
 cry '' Napoleon," said he. While the commandant was re- 
 calling the men to th^ir duty, the ex-emperor opens his breast, 
 and crossing his hands over his head, "if you do not recollect," 
 said he, " your general, who has so often led you to victory, 
 he is here, fire.'* At these words the battalion disbands and 
 speedily appears under the colours oF the usurper. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 GRENOBLE, ITS ENVIRONS, AND THE GREAT CHARTREUSE. 
 
 Next day after our arrival we set out to survey the town of 
 Grenoble at our ease. It is fertile enough in sources of 
 amusement, though there might not be sufficient to gratify a 
 Sybarite. It is in one of the most agreeable situations to the 
 amateurs of embellished nature, and the mountains that sur- 
 round it on all sides, are cultivated to their very tops. The 
 bason of Grenoble makes a part of that valley, wherein the 
 river of Isere meanders, in a thousand turns, to join the Drac, 
 a wild and muddy torrent. 
 
 The capital of Dauphine is surrounded with ramparts. The 
 Isere divides it into two parts ; one, consisting of suburbs, is 
 hemmed in between the mountain and the river ; and the 
 other, which composes the town, lies in the plain between the 
 Drac and the Isere. 
 
 There are some very good buildings, such as the Prefecture, the 
 Cathedral, the Bishop's Palace, the School of Law, and the Court 
 of Justice. 
 
 Here are a great number of manufactories and workshops. 
 Works in metal of all kinds, with gloves and ratifiat, are in high 
 reputation. The wines and liqueurs are excellent; plantations 
 of vineyards appear in every direction. 
 
72 Montemonfs Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 .Grenoble lias produced a number of men celebrated ia the 
 sciences and arts, or for their military genius ; Bayard, the 
 pink of French chivalry, the profound Condillac, Vauccanson the 
 mechanist, Mably the historian, and others. 
 
 The Library here is capacious and well constructed; the Mu- 
 seum contains valuable drawings ; the cabinet of medals is very 
 rich, and there are several literary cabinets, with capital printing 
 offices, and private libraries. There is an old proverb, " IJauphi- 
 nois, fin, fourbe et courtois," " The Dauphinese are courteous, 
 but sly and roguish." I shall give them credit, however, for a 
 great deal of courtesy, urbanity, and wit. 
 
 The ladies possess vivacity and grace ; in general they are of a 
 frolicsome or waggish humour, and very volatile. Among them 
 are fine shapes, clumsy shapes, Hebes, Venuses, and cruel Dianas. 
 Some of these last, the missionaries have converted, and by teach- 
 ing them to love God, have taught them also to love their neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 Society here is divided between the noblesse and the bour- 
 geoisie. The ancient dowagers are said to be too nice in their 
 selection of visitors ; but I am persuaded that Fame herein out- 
 shoots the mark ; for education may often compensate for the 
 absence of fortune ; and, after all, as Juvenal says, — *' Nobilitas 
 sola atque unica virtus^"— -True nobility consists in virtue alone. 
 
 The Grotto Notre Dame, and the bridge of Cleye, about a 
 league from Grenoble, are well worth seeing. The latter consists 
 •of a single arch, very bold and very large. It rises over the tor- 
 rent of the Drac, at the end of a delightful plain, which serves 
 for a public promenade. 
 
 These two last are included within the seven wonders, assigned 
 by common fame to Grenoble. The other five are beneath notice, 
 but there is one truly great wonder, in the environs, — the Char- 
 treuse, founded by St. Bruno, and on which were dependent all 
 the Chartreuses of Germany, France, and Italy. 
 
 This ancient monastery stands about five leagues from the town, 
 in the midst of a desert, shut up on all sides by inaccessible rocks. 
 Two roads lead to it. I had contemplated, among the Alps, 
 scenes as solemn, romantic, and stupendous as I could conceive 
 possible ; but in the solitudes of the great Chartreuse, I found 
 expressions of nature no less forcible, and the combined eflfect of 
 her productions, her highly elaborate compositions, no less pow- 
 erful. 
 
 Going from Grenoble to the Great Chartreuse, and scaling the 
 first ascent, we see under our feet the town of Grenoble, the val- 
 ley of Isere, wherein that river, like the Firth of Forth, in Scot- 
 land, has a thousand sinuosities and replications, with the whole 
 
Returning to France, 1% 
 
 bason of Grenoble. Continuing to ascend, nt tbe end of an hour 
 and a half we come to the village of Sapfey, among meadows scat- 
 tered about it. 
 
 We then descend inteaA thick forest, for about an hour, and 
 leaving the woods, we advance, as in a plain, to the entrance of 
 the convent. 
 
 This entrance is by two perpendicular rocks, of a tremendous 
 height, and so close to each other, that a couple of wicket gates, 
 fixed on each side, completely block up the passage, with the help 
 of a bridge thrown over the torrent that rolls at the bottom. When 
 these gates are closed, there can be no entering, and the eye is 
 lost among perpendicular rocks, that seem to touch the skies. 
 Prior to the Revolution women were not allowed to pass this en- 
 trance, but now they may advance to the gate of the convent, but 
 are not to enter. 
 
 From these gates to the monastery is about an hour's walk. We 
 leave the torrent on the left, and move along a rugged road, through 
 a thick forest of beeches and firs. Every thing here appears so 
 gloomy, that at mid-day, we might think it was midnight. 
 
 Quitting this, we arrive at an immense meadowy and there dis- 
 cover the first building of the monastery, that is, a vast range of 
 cow-houses, for keeping cattle and preparing milk. On one side, 
 below the road, is the cemetery of the servants and domestics. 
 
 Keeping along the meadow, we discover, at last, at the other 
 extremity, the convent itself, and its roofs surmounted with a mul- 
 titude of turrets and steeples. It stands exactly at the entrance 
 of another forest, overlooked by frowning desert rocks, whose 
 prodigious height is not a little alarming. All around we see 
 nothing but these, excepting that some of them are wooded. In 
 the middle of the meadow, we seem as if landed in the infernal 
 regions of Dante, or in some prison, whose walls are joined to the 
 skies. It might seem to be an immense fortress, built by Nature, 
 and needing no other guardians than its two entrances. The woods, 
 the meadows, the rocks, the dwellings, and the inhabitants, every 
 thing here has a sombrous aspect. No pleasing productions of 
 art are introduced, which might contrast agreeably with the other 
 objects, except a few shady bowers, with some pellucid streams, 
 and beds of flowers, on which the star of day is not niggardly of 
 his beams. The only cultivated grounds are the gardens, which 
 are inclosed within the area of the convent. Every where else, 
 we have meadows, forests, or rocks, composing a savage spectacle, 
 and supplying only grave materials for thinking. 
 
 At our entrance a grave porter gravely opens the door ; I 
 thought he had the look oi a magician. We cross an adjoining 
 court, when a corridor expands to view that we might have 
 taken for a part of the Chinese wall. Our guide moves for-^ 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No. LI, Vol. IX. L 
 
74 Montemont* a Tour over the Alps and in Italy, 
 
 ward, and the principal friar on duty slowly paces towards 
 us, from the lower end of the inimense corridor. Apartments 
 are then opened, but in a profound silence; and lastly, a little 
 fire is made for us in a large chambe*p^ith five closets attach- 
 ed, and a bed in each. At a large table, a little supper is 
 served up for us, but without flesh meat, which the chartrcux, 
 and all belonging to the establishment, abstain from, and vi- 
 sitors must submit to this restriction. Our supper consisted 
 of an omelette, of fish, fried potatoes, cheese, fruits, bread, 
 and wine. Supper ended, every one repairs to his cabinet to 
 repose on beds not quite so soft as one might have wished. 
 
 As soon as rosy- fingered Aurora had opened the gates of the 
 morning, and the porter those of the monastery, we walked 
 out to visit the chapel and haunts of St. Bruno, sequestered 
 further up in the forest. There the solitaire, at the foot of a 
 naked rock, lived on vegetables, with a streamlet of spring 
 water that ran by him, serving him for beverage. . 
 
 He might then say, with the vicar of Wakefield, 
 
 No flocks that range the valley free. 
 
 To slaughter I condemn, 
 Taii«;ht by that power that pities me, 
 
 I learn to pity tliem. 
 But from the mountain's grassy side, 
 
 A guiltless feast I bring, 
 A scrip with herbs and fruit supplied. 
 
 And water from the spring. 
 
 On a nearer view of this rock, v^ere St. Bruno spent nrrost 
 of his days, both when the season was fair and otherwise, our 
 eager fancy was alive to depict, in a pensive mood and with silent 
 thought, the mournful doom of one who could lonely seek such 
 a state of torpid existence. Voltaire says — " C'est n'etre boa 
 h. rien de n'etre bon qu'a soi — To be of use only to one's self, is 
 to trifle the hours of life away in dullness and insipidity." 
 
 What a difference between the sweet sympathies with which 
 mercy gilds the seat of St. Bernard, atnong those who know 
 how to live in the tempest, and come as mild companions to 
 the sufTerer, often wandering over the trackless waste, and the 
 unfeeling gaze of the useless inmates of the Chartreuse; their 
 looks cheerless and dark as winter, unblest with companion- 
 ship, one charm of life, as they seem scarcely to know one 
 another. No voices to touch the ear, no soul-inspiring accents 
 of benevolence and tenderness, but as if shrinking from visiters 
 that wander thither with intrusive feet, making them pay dear 
 for the hospitalities conferred. 
 
 On returning from the chapel to the monastery, a domestic 
 shewed us the principal apartments. The fathers were walk- 
 
Returning to France, 7^ 
 
 ing up and down in long corridors, wrapped up in woollen 
 gowns, and with hoods on their heads. Instantly on seeing us, 
 they disappeared, each one retiring to his cell. 
 
 The church, which stands in the middle of the other build- 
 ings, is very handsome. We visited, successively, the apart- 
 ments of the superior, while he was at prayers with the other 
 chartreux; the library, which is already pretty well filled, con- 
 sidering the little time that it has been re-established, that is, 
 since 1814, and the great hall of audience, wherein all the 
 generals of the order assemble once a year. It is very exten- 
 sive, and is not unlike the hall of the marshals of France in the 
 Tuilleries. As the portraits of the French captains are placed 
 one beside another, so the generals of the order are painted, 
 one after another, on the walls of the great saloon. 
 
 As to the extent of the principal range of buildings, they 
 make up nearly a league in circumference. They form an 
 oblong square of one quarter of a league, in a right line, and two 
 principal corridors reach from one extremity to the other. 
 
 The gardens are cultivated exclusively by the chartreux ; 
 each has his particular portion on the terraces of the convents 
 
 This vast structure was rebuilt eight or nine years before 
 the revolution, at the charge of upwards of a million, but the 
 riches of the chartreux were then immense, as they had in pos- 
 session eighty leagues of forests. The buildings have suffered 
 nothing from the revolution, being remote from all communi- 
 cation. The architecture is simple, no])le, and solid. 
 
 The fathers can only converse together on Sundays and 
 holidays. Jt is on such days only that they eat together, at 
 other times they eajt in their own cells. Flesh meat is never 
 seen among them, being prohibited by their regulations, but 
 fish, vegetables, eggs, cheese, wine, &c. are not wanting. 
 
 In lieu of shirts, the chartreux wear woollen robes ; for beds, 
 they have mattresses of bulrushes. They rise every night at 
 e)even, and attend prayers till one in the morning. This in- 
 terruption of sleep must be inconvenient, but custom diminishes 
 t-ie effect of it. 
 
 We quitted this solitude with pleasure, and took the road of 
 St. Laurent and Voreppe. At every step we pass along fright- 
 ful precipices, and after an hour's walk arrive at the principal 
 entrance of the monastery. Here are large gates and a porter's 
 lodge ; all the circumstances and situations are wild and 
 savage as a desert. At a bridge which passes over the torrent, 
 the view is appalling. All the entrances lie through narrow 
 passages of high parallel rocks, with bridges and gates in con- 
 formity with the situations, and the roads at times cut out of 
 the rock itself. 
 
f6 Montemoni's Tour over the Alps and m liah/. 
 
 Emerging from the possessions of the monastery, we first 
 notice the hamlet of Les Charbonniers, where a number of 
 saw-pits are at work. 
 
 Let me take here a retrospective view of the particulars, as 
 there is scarcely a parallel for the grand Chartreuse, to be found 
 in the world. We descended through thick forests, under per- 
 pendicular rocks, between two parallel heights, but then every 
 where wooded. We had next to cross a dangerous torrent, 
 which receives all the waters of the desert, and carries them 
 to the valley of St. Laurent. In this part many grand cascades 
 water the road, and we proceed among precipices 5 or 600 
 feet in depth. This passage is very dangerous in rainy weather, 
 or at the melting of the "snow. Stones and avalanches fall 
 frequently, at such times, and block up the road. The cas- 
 cades then are so impetuous, that an effort is required to resist 
 them. The summer season is the only time to visit the great 
 CharU'euse. 
 
 From the first entrance of the monastery, which is only a 
 little distance from the greater one, we go in about an hour 
 to the village of St. Laurent, where the generals of the order 
 leave their voitures. From this village to the convent we must 
 pass on foot or on horseback, a distance of three leagues. 
 
 From St. Laurent to Voreppe, there are five or six danger- 
 ous torrents to cross : the distance is three leagues. Two of 
 these we pass on a plain, the third is over a pretty rapid descent. 
 We then enter again the high road to Voreppe, and can pro- 
 cure Diligences for Grenoble, which is also about three leagues 
 distant. 
 
 LETTER XVr. 
 
 LYONS — THE BANKS OF THE SAONE — ( HALONS SUR SAONE, &C. 
 
 RBTURNrNG at length from the great Chartreuse to Grenoble, 
 and thence resuming the route of the capital, we again took 
 our departure in the Lyons Diligence. 
 
 Between Grenoble and Lyons the only town is Burgoiu. It 
 is a small place, but the people, as throughout the fertile plains 
 of Dauphine, are of an industrious character and seem to live 
 comfortably. 
 
 Our diligence broke down on the road, but it was in the 
 night; our entrance into Lyons was thereby retarded, as we 
 should otherwise have arrivcil at break of day. But arriving 
 
Returning to France, 77 
 
 some hours later, we had a far better opportunity of recon- 
 noitring the environs of the city. 
 
 The plains of Dauphine and La Bresse lay like a map before 
 us, stretching out to an immense horizon. Behind us the 
 Alps were plainly in view, the considerable distance interven- 
 ing only adding to their majesty. At length we reach a 
 plateau, whence we have a noble view of the second city of 
 France. It is seated at the confluence of the Soane and the 
 Rhone, and at the foot of the hillocks of Le Beaujelet. The 
 distance is about two leagues from Lyons, but there is no point 
 vi^here the varied magnificence, the noble grandeur of the 
 spectacle, can be better assumed. 
 
 We descended, however, from the plateau and arrived at 
 Lyons, through the suburb de la Guilloti^re, separated from 
 the town by the Rhone. It was Sunday ; immense crowds, in 
 elegant apparel, were promenading, with a sort of busy throng 
 and bustle, along the gentle Saone and the Rhone ; the scene 
 illumined by the frank and amiable graces of the young and 
 fair, and gay, thrilled harmony, joy, and ecstacy through our 
 faculties. My companions bore an honourable testimony to 
 these attractive and pleasing circumstances, having before 
 adopted erroneous and illiberal prejudices concerning Lyons 
 and its people. 
 
 The next day after our arrival we visited the principal 
 curiosities. The hotel de Ville is a superb buildings in the 
 place des Terreaux \ the ascent to it is by a large escalier. Jn 
 the vestibule we observe a magnificent antique Tourobole, or 
 Sacrifice of Bulls, with a table of bronze, on which is engraved 
 a speech of the Emperor Claudius to the Roman senate, in 
 behalf of the inhabitants of Lugdununi. 
 
 The Great Theatre, behind the hotel de Ville, is very elegant, 
 but has no seats in the parterre or pit. It is open every night, 
 as is also the little theatre des Celestins, 
 
 On the place des Terreanx is the Museum of Arts and Com- 
 merce. It contains some valuable antiquities, large paintings, 
 a mosaic, hardly to be matched, found in the environs of the 
 city, and a cabinet of birds. 
 
 The City Library is well situated on the banks of the Rhone, 
 and may well be distinguished by the choice and number of 
 works that it contains, about one hundred thousand volumes. 
 
 The Cathedral also is well worth seeing; we noticed an 
 ancient clock in it, of a very ingenious construction. 
 
 The Grand Hospital, as a building, may vie with the hotel 
 de Ville; the inside is much more respectable, in point of 
 grandeur, ornament, and beauty, and its distributions are n)ore 
 judiciously planned. A number of ^i^ters (d religious coterie) 
 
78 MontemonVs Tour over the Alps, and in Italy, 
 
 wait on the patients, in their tedious and painful indispositions, 
 as friends, benefaelors, preservers. Every candid and judicious 
 traveller must he sensil)le of the irreproachable character and 
 amiable denicanour of those kind females, in general, as united 
 in the bonds of peace, and stretching out their friendly arms 
 to the distressed. 
 
 To the aniateurs of expanded views I would recommend to 
 ascend the dome of this structure. J should have mentioned 
 that a crocodile was once taken in the Rhone, under the bridge 
 de la Guillotidre, which is now suspended to the vault of the 
 dome of the hospital. 
 
 We proceeded next to visit la Salle Gallier, the most spaci- 
 ous and beautiful coffee-house in Europe, next the juncture of 
 the Rhone and the Saonc, then the elegant bridges thrown over 
 this last river, as also the place Bellccour and Fourvi^res, 
 where the prospect is still more comprehensive than from the 
 donie of the hospital. 
 
 We did not fail to pay our respects to the manufactories and 
 workshops, which I should not only praise but hasten and de- 
 light to praise. It may be justly remarked, that in this distinct 
 view the city possesses a peculiar and durable fame. Here 
 are very considerable fabrics of stuffs in gold, silver, and silk, 
 also of lace, hosiery, ribands, hats, &c. 
 
 Having heard of the banks of the Saone, as characterized 
 by much sweetness and novelty, from Lyons to Chalon, we 
 entered a great barge, which conveys ])assengers from one 
 place to the other. Here we passed by a grotto wherein the 
 philosopher of Geneva passed a night with six splendid shil- 
 lings in his pocket. It is included within a garden, and a very 
 limpid spring of water issues from it. 
 
 At Chalons sur Saone we quitted the high road for Paris, 
 to spend a few days in the country of the Abb^ Geolfroy 
 and Madame de Genlis, near Marcigny, where the amiable 
 author of la Gastrnnomie resides. Here also we |)arted with 
 our Scotch fellow tourists, of whom it may be said, that they 
 judiciously knew how to realize and |)ractise those rules to 
 which travellers should not be inattentive. As men they were 
 sensible and afFable, of a mild and polite demeanour, of a com- 
 municative turn and liberal opinions, and never assuming 
 supercilious airs.