THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA LIBRARY PRESENTED BY THE WILLIAM A. WHITAKER FOUNDATION THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA ENDOWED BY THE DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC SOCIETIES DQ23 .L7 O'* L fsMgr "date ' DUE ret. If Z~~T A THREE MONTHS’ TOUR IN SWITZERLAND AND FRANCE. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill https://archive.org/details/threemonthstouriOOIidd V.': V v ~ i *' ' *\& H&MHK'S&fcf'!; patter Vft’vjft i msm mm V® V^STi ^llil§%' mm -trjmiAs, ;'sztcA tthkoro otv tm kjvobbu the>JUvf / WTZid.dXo’rvi JFALL of th.e 6TAUBBAJCH. "aeax LaixteiixaxL STAi^us'Jied iy Elder^'ContA/iU. / ^ . us A THREE MONTHS’ TOUR IN SWITZERLAND AND FRANCE: Hlugtrateti font!) plates;, DESCRIPTIVE OF MOUNTAIN SCENERY, - AND INTERSPERSED WITH TOETRY ; WITH A ROUTE TO CHAMOUNI, THE BERNESE ALPS, &c. - »—■— BY THE REV. WILLIAM LIDDIARD, AUTHOR OF “ THE LEGEND OF EINSIDLIN, A METRICAL TALE OF SWITZERLAND,’' AND OTHER POEMS. - ^ - “ To climb the trackless mountain all unseen. With the wild flock that never sees a fold; Alone o’er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude; ’tis but to hold Converse with nature’s charms, and view her stores unrolled.” Childe Harold, Canto 2. LONDON: SMITH, ELDER, AND CO., CORN HILL. 1832. I.ONDON : Printed by Maurice and Co., Fenchurch Street. TO THE REV. ROBERT WALSH, LL.D., F.R.S.A., AS A MEMORIAL OF FRIENDSHIP, AND AS A TESTIMONY OF ESTEEM FOR HIS TALENTS, THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED BY HIS FAITHFUL FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. ' PREFACE. In visiting the Land which forms the chief sub¬ ject of the following Tour, the author has been instigated by various motives;—to view the handy-work of the Deity in all its sublimity, and at the same time to tread a soil which, like Greece, has been stamped with the seal of Free¬ dom ; celebrated for the heroic deeds of those who purchased for it, with their best blood, the first of all blessings; who swore that it should be free,—“and it was so.” I was actuated also by another motive. A Metrical Poem, which I was then writing, induced a wish to see that parti- cular spot, Morgarten , where the battle was fought in which the Spartan Swiss proved vic¬ torious, and drove an invading foe, in spite of an immense superiority in numbers, from their lakes and hills. I wished also to see the splen- Vlll PREFACE. did Monastery of “ Notre Dame des Her mites, 1 ' (Einsidlin,) from whence the little Poem I speak of derived its name. I regret that my time did not permit me to see more of these attractive valleys and awe-inspiring hills: but I ought to be grateful, and not to forget that I never was for one single day impeded by bad weather, and therefore saw as much of the country as any person could have seen, in the same time. This I attribute, not solely to the weather, but as much to a determination I made, upon leaving England, not to be persuaded to go to Italy; a resolution which I found it was no easy matter to adhere to. At Martigny, in particular, I had to struggle against the importunity of an agree¬ able fellow-traveller, then with his brother on his way to the Simplon and Milan,—whom I left (after having resisted all his entreaties) on his way; while I pursued mine, in solitude, towards the Pisse-Vache, St. Maurice, Chillon, Bex, Vevay, &c. Whatever reluctance I may have felt at the time, I had reason to rejoice at my determination ; as, when I was travelling the Bernese Alps after¬ wards, I found, by a letter from my fellow-travel- PREFACE. IX lers, that they were prisoners on the wrong side of the Alps ; a fall of snow having prevented them from meeting me, as they had intended, on the Lake of Lucerne. How much depends upon a well-digested plan may be learnt from this cir¬ cumstance ; the person I allude to having been three times in Switzerland without having seen, what I have Lord Byron’s authority for calling, the “finest country in the world.”* In giving this short Tour to the public, the author is in hopes it may prove serviceable to those who have time only to make a brief visit to these mountains. If it should stimulate a single individual to such an undertaking, he will feel that he has not written in vain. If he has been excursive upon an hackneyed theme, he is assured that it is one which is inexhaustible, since no two travellers, perhaps, see this mountainous region under the * Lord Byron says, in his Notes in a Tour to these very Alps, that the was fortunate both in the weather and in his companion, Mr. H-—. “I can bear fatigue and privation, and have seen some of the noblest views in the world.”—See the second volume of Moore’s Memoirs of Lord Byron. X PREFACE. same aspect,—now glooming in mist, now spark¬ ling in the sunshine, yet never otherwise than sublime. In my ascent of the Righi I was most fortu¬ nate, and would say, that the sight of the rising or the setting sun, but more especially of the latter, from thence, cannot be too dearly pur¬ chased by any toil. He that has seen this, has reached the “ ne plus ultra” of that delight of which our earthly vision is capable. I shall only detain my reader whilst I depre¬ cate his too severe criticism of a Tour which has been written with a view to stimulate others to undertake a similar Journey. To form any thing like an accurate opinion of the grandeur of this country, which I have humbly attempted to describe, it must be visited;—to be duly appre¬ ciated, it must be seen. € O N T E N T S. TOUR TO C II AMOUNT LETTER I. Page. Departure from Ryde for Havre in the Camilla Steam Packet—Sail¬ ing Match — Arrival at Havre — Hotel de Londre — Douanier American Indians ■—A Table d’Hote— Singing Girls .. .. 3 LETTER II. Leave Havre in the Steamer for Rouen—Ilonfleur—Chateau on the Seine — Dinner on hoard — Setting Sun; proposed by a Lady of the Party, that every one should write something upon the subject — Rouen Hotel .. .. .. .. .. ..10 LETTER III. Rouen — St. Owen—Visit to a Garden of an Englishman, at Rouen — Military Mass at Rouen Cathedral—Leave Rouen for Paris—• Hotel d’ltalie—Visit to the Louvre — Franeoni’s—Leave Paris in a Voiture for Geneva—Palace at Fontainbleau — Table upon which Napoleon signed his Abdication— Cathedral at Sens. .. 17 LETTER IV. Joigny— Pont de Pargny — Procession at St. Laurent — Fete — Female Saint—Reuss — The Jura Mountains — Lake of Geneva—Mr. Canning — The Blue Rhone — Arrive at Geneva — ‘ La Ballance. .16 Xll CONTENTS. LETTER V. Page. Difference between Switzerland and Italy — Geneva — Model of Swiss Mountains — View from the Jura Mountains—Visit to Furney— Sheet lightning on our return .. .. .. .. 46 LETTER VI. Visit to Chamouni — Bonneville — St. Martin — First View of Mont Blanc unclouded — Little Church and Steeple of St. Martin — Journey from St. Martin to Chamouni—The Aiguilles — Glaciers seen from the Vale of Chamouni .. .. .. ..53 LETTER VII. Visit to Montanvert — Mer de Glace — Visit to the source of the Arveiron — Rose of the Alps — Pomegranates—Saying of the Guides to those who shew any reluctance to follow them .. .. 59 LETTER VIII. Visit to Martigny, by the Col de Balme—View from thence of the Vale of Chamouni — Mont Blanc — Hear distinct Avalanches towards St. Bernard, as we approach Martigny — Remains of a Roman Fortress .. .. .. .. .. ..70 LETTER IX. St. Maurice — Account of the Roman Castle — Martigny — Dent de Midi — Dent de Morcles— The Diablerets and Martinets — Bex — Chateau Cliillon — Bonivert— Montreux — Clarens — Vevay— Embark for Geneva — Storm — Effect of the Bise, or North Wind 75 CONTENTS. Xlll TOUR TO THE BERNESE ALPS, LAKE OF LUCERNE, &c. LETTER X. Page. Departure for Lausanne—Different Services in the same Temple on the Sabbath Chateau de St. Larthelemi — Noble View from thence_ Obelisk — Inscription — Remains of an Altar at the Hotel de Ville at Lausanne, consecrated to the Sun and Moon — Most rational of all Idolatries — Mildness of the Sectarians here to be attributed to the sublimity of the Scene around— Join a Traveller in taking-a Calhche to Berne .. .. .. LETTER XI. Stipulation about Cigars — Moudon — Large Pigeons — Ancient Mini¬ dunum — Altar to Jupiter Optimus Maximus, &c.— Inscription to Marcus Aurelius — Morat — Pillar of Skulls removed by the French —Avenche — Ancient Aventicum — Pillar of the Storks—Berne.. 91 LETTER XII. Bernese Costume — Terrace near the Church —Accident and surprising Escape — Proceed to Thun — Merlingen — Family of Bubenburgh — Beatenburgh — St. Beat — Lake of Thun — Unterseen — Inter- lacken — Lake of Brienz — La Belle Battelliere — Lauterbrun ; Valley leading to it — Jungfrau — The Falls of the Staubbach, 950 feet high — The Myrrenbach and the Schmadribach — Swiss Girls —Mountain Music .. .. .. .. ..96 LETTER XIII. Chalet opposite the Jungfrau — Hear an Avelanche for the first time — Echo — Descent to Grindelwald — Glacier close to the Auberge — Arch of Ice — The Eiger and Breithorn — Le Roc Chaud—Mar¬ vellous Escape of three Bernois—Avelanche on passing the Scheideck—Ross Alps — Dos D’Ane—The Reichenbach — Swiss School .. •• •• •• • 1 XIV CONTENTS. LETTER XIV. Page. Lungern Lake — Sarnen—Paintings—Nicholas de Flue—Henry de Melcthal—Marguerithe Herlobig, wife of Werner de Stauffacher, said to have suggested the league by which the Three Cantons freed their Country from the curse of Despotism — Her arguments, cause of the Meeting at Grutli — The Result — Hair ornaments —Lucerne .. .. .. .. .. ..128 LETTER XV. Leave Lucerne for Weggis — Altorf — The Righi — Sunset — Sunrise Righi Staffel — Goldau — The fall of the Mountain Rossberg — Valley of Ruin — Brunnen—Minstrel, with a cross-bow, chants, in German, the history of William Tell — Enthusiasm in the cause here universal, especially amongst the boatmen — Fluelen — Altorf — The French under Le Courbe .. .. .. .. 135 LETTER XVI. Tower of Tell — The Muotta—-Lines upon a Harp — St. Gothard — Monk’s-leap—Anecdote in the Pyrenees, by a Traveller — Altorf — Fire at Altorf—Records connected with the History of William Tell saved from the flames — Leave Altorf for St. Gothard — The Retreat of the Russian over the Alps called the Ivienzighulm — The Passage contested by Massena—-Anecdote of a French Officer — Celebrated Echo at Brunis—Meet a Chamois ; Verses upon the same — Pont au Diable — Burglen, Birth-place of William Tell — Return to Altorf — Adventure of a Stranger in the Pyrenees .. 157 LETTER XVII. Grutli—The Three Fountains—Verses upon the same — Brunnen— The Inn at Schweitz — The Landlord — His Beau Frere — Misun¬ derstanding—Visit Morgarten—Lake of Egeri — The Abbey of CONTENTS. XV Page. Einsidlin; description of the Convent; its history ; robbed by the French army during the French Revolution — Present Convent rises greater from its ashes .. .. .. .. 179 LETTER XVIII. Lake of Lowertz — Anecdote of a Female Ghost, said to haunt the Ruins of the Castle of Schwanaw — Valley suddenly covered with a Debris of the Fall from the Righi — Chapel of Alten carried away by the overflow of the Lake, and left near Seven —Gesler’s Castle — Kussnaght Chapel upon the spot where Gesler was killed — Lake of Zug — Views from thence —Church at Weggis — Lucerne —Ulrich Zwingli, the Reformer, burnt to death — Bridges at Lu¬ cerne— Dance of Death — Fish of the Lake various and fine — Female Bandit — Smokers and Card-players alike — Leave Lucerne for Berne . * •• • • •• •• 98 LETTER XIX. Address to the Sun — Meet my German Fellow Traveller — Travel with him to Berne — Find my portmanteau, but without a direction — The Aubergiste very civilly restores it — His quarrel with an English Traveller who had lost a ring at the Faucon ; settled by the Bernese Magistrates—Panorama of the Sunrise at Mount Righi —Visit Fellenberg’s Academy at Hofwyll — Description of Hofwyll — Curious Communication of the Dining-room with the Kitchen —Wooden Horse — Leave Berne — Lausanne — Geneva — Verses addressed to the Lake LETTER XX. p ar i s _ Swiss Traveller in the Diligence annoyed at having his Trunk searched at Dole —still more enraged at being searched in the middle of the night in France — gets outrageous — Officer of the Gens-d’Armes sent for — Arrive in Paris Hotel d Italie , strange Character there — Theatres at Paris — Trentes Annees Som- nambule — Frescati — Victims to the Gambling Table - Versailles — The Bastile — The Thuilleries XVI CONTENTS. LETTER XXI. Page. Boulogne — High and low Town — Pillar of Napoleon— Society at Bou¬ logne— Excellent Amateur Painters living there at present — Anec¬ dote of a French Officer resident there — The Museum — Concert — Storm on the Coast—A Vessel wrecked — Lines written on the spot upon the subject — Protestant Chapel built so as to be turned into a Theatre — French Regiment; their mode of settling their quarrels — Beaten Tracts — Difference between Beaters in look¬ ing out for subjects—Gray’s opinion of writers of Travels — Conclusion .. •• •• •• . • 24? 2£tsst of tye lEmfccUtjsJmente. View of the Fall of the Staubbacli, near Lauterbrun ... To face Title-page. Route from Geneva to Chamouni, Martigny, St. Maurice, Bex, Chillon, and Vevay, back to Geneva, including a second Route from Geneva by Lausanne, Berne, Thun, Lauterbrun, &c. to the Bernese Alps, the Lakes of Lucerne, Zug, &c. &c. ... ... ... ... To face page 1 View near Chede, between Sallenche and Chamouni View of the Jungfrau from the Valley of Lauterbrun View on the Lake of Uri near Brunnen ... tt 50 104 tt 151 TOUR TO CHAMOUNI. B Ctrndar Haute rom Geneva to Cbaitiouni, Martigny BEHNE LUCE RNE Cold®' La**** 9 Urunnei* Payenn# o o Thun o-vBrunig. "teriake'' K »'l c fw n l,i, h Ponte LAaSABXE# irtr' s tfontreux v r/u''"’" SUfe ^GVillenevLve g£ 7 >tp' o Martig-ny © Bonixaville '//.re t'cirtce Lausanne,Berne,&c.&e. to tlie Bernese Alps T 7 ie L dices of HUCERKTIE, ^IU © 9 &Co&C. Ftuvt &' Ape neos Cha i SL Martin \ Chede o -A Monitlol Drawn. ~by J Murray from, a ShetcH by The Rev* Lithographed ly Socm 1 Leith JZetnff- 1 Published by Smith, EldeT k C°‘Comhill, London SIX WEEKS’ TOUR, < 3 *. LETTER I. Departure from Ryde for Havre in the Camilla Steam Packet—Sailing Match—Arrival at Havre—Hotel de Londre—Douaniers — An Ac¬ count of the American Indians—A Tabled’Hote—Singing Girls. Havre de Grace, Aug. 3, 1827. When Sterne applied the term of apparition to a letter, he must have considered absence as a temporary death, from which the absent, like the departed, are permitted occasionally to escape, to revisit the u Glimpses of the Moon 11 —to hover occasionally round the loved and well- remembered abode of their friends cc et quo non possum cor pore mente ferorf Of such it may be said that they are never more at home than when from home. As such a test, I trust you will hail the appearance of this Letter. I shall now recur back, without further prejudice, to the moment when I took leave of you on the Pier of Ryde, and stepped from thence into the steam-boat in waiting. Cer- G YACHT RACE. race of this kind before; and that which I now, for the first time, looked upon, was not calculated to impress me with that great interest, which many who have not witnessed such a race imagine such a contest to present. Mr. Maxie’s yacht, to which we lowered our colours as we passed, was just on the point of going round the stationed vessel, while the next nearest yacht was at least a mile behind. It seemed to be a hollow thing, there being nothing like the strife, the “ tug of war” you almost always are sure to wit¬ ness in a degree enough to make it interesting in a horse race. It is generally too well known which vessel will win the race, according as there is a breeze or calm: so far there is this advantage, that as neither Boreas nor Zephyrus are to be bribed, so there can be no foul play; it being impossible that the water jockeys can ever reach the climax to which those of the turf have arrived. After a restless, negative sleep on the hard deck, wrapt in my cloak, I was not sorry to hail the dawn of day, and, soon after, the harbour for which we were bound. The number of docks rather injure the beauty of the entrance to Havre, whilst the want of a free circulation of water in summer must give rise to an unwholesome effluvia. It is to this stagnantcy that the natives must attribute the intermittent fevers to which the people at Havre and its immediate neighbourhood are always liable in summer. After a visit from the Douaniers, the pressure of whose fingers I felt upon my cloak, without being productive of HAVRE PASSPORTS. / any result, I hastened to the nearest hotel, the Hotel de Londres, where I was well accommodated during my stay at Havre. We (that is, all the English) had our patience and temper tried by the Douaniers, who were evidently determined to detain us as long as possible, honouring our occasional sallies of impatience at the delay, with epithets not very complimentary. 6i Cochons Anglois ” was a term which more than once assailed my ears, responded to by us in our turn, in an equally opprobrious strain. The inso¬ lence of office, it must be confessed, exceeds that which petty <£ brief authority’’ plays off in our own country. In the Passport Office, where I left my passport, I expe¬ rienced much vexatious delay, all of which I afterwards found might have been avoided by a small douceur to a Madame-, who regulates these matters more speed¬ ily and satisfactorily to her employers. Substitutes were given us in lieu of our passports, which were forwarded to Paris. There, we were informed, they would be restored. All these contretems are so many appeals to the pocket. Woe betide him who should follow the scriptural instruc¬ tion to the letter , and travel without scrip or purse, a most indispensible part of the traveller’s luggage. We found very good accommodation at the Hotel de Londres, kept by an English woman, who was very attentive, and, considering all things, reasonable in her demands: five francs a-head entitled us to an excellent dinner, a dessert, and a bottle of claret, well flavoured, at the “ Table d’Hote.” 8 AMERICAN INDIANS. Whilst in the enjoyment of our dessert, a more intellec¬ tual treat awaited us, through another sense, the ear, which was now regaled by the sound of sweet music, vocal as well as instrumental. We soon found we were indebted to a trio for this repast, consisting of a father and his two daughters; both of whom sang, one of them accompanying her voice with the harp, the father playing the violin. After several delightful u chansons/’ a plate was sent round the table, into which (as much was not expected) every person put something; what I know not, but enough, apparently, to satisfy the performers, one of whom had to boast of no small beauty of person as well as voice. In rambling through the streets the following morning, I met one of our fellow-travellers, who had taken up his quarters at another hotel, together with some lions , or, in other words, 4C American Indians, from the Back Settle¬ ments / 7 who were on their route to Paris, with a view to gratify Charles Dix and the Parisiens. I was induced to accompany him to his auberge , where we found the objects of our curiosity busily occupied in discussing an ample dish of plums, spitting out the stones in various directions, of which the chequered floor bore testimony on every side; an action in which they evinced no small degree of assi¬ duity and perseverance. Possibly they had no reason to regret that we disturbed them in this operation, as we afterwards heard their healths had suffered from the excess in this indulgence. As soon, however, as they perceived we were observing them with a prying eye of curiosity, GENS d’aRMES. 9 they made their retreat, setting in motion a number of little bells, which were suspended to a sort of bracelet, fastened to the upper part of the arm, by means of which, like the lady of “ Banbury,” they make a sort of “ music wherever they go. 1 ’ Their complexion was rather dark tawny than black; the females, reversing the order of na¬ ture, having the least beauty to boast of, their features partaking more of the Squaw than those of the men:—their language seemed to be rapid and dissonant. We were in¬ terrupted and precluded from further observation by the appearance of one of the gens d’armes , who told us it was against their orders to admit strangers: we were there¬ fore obliged to decamp without ceremony; and, amongst the rest, our friend, who in vain endeavoured to assure the gens d’armes that he had apartments in the hotel, until a femme de chambre made her appearance, and confirmed the assurance. To-morrow we propose leaving Havre by the Rouen steamer; an intention I have been induced to adopt, from finding that several of our party have resolved to do the same thing, and for the same cause—the beautiful scenery which the banks of the Seine present on every side. For the present, then, adieu ! My next Letter will be from Rouen, when I shall endeavour to describe the events of the dav, which is rich, at least, in promises. •/ ' 10 LETTER II. Leave Havre in the Steamer for Rouen — Honjicur — Chateau on the Seine —Dinner on board — Setting Sun; proposed by a Lady of the Party , that every one should write something upon the subject — Rouen Hotel. Rouen, Aug. 5 , 1827. Retrospection may be said to have two urns; one con¬ taining that which is bitter , the other that which is sweet. Tlius, though the former stream is most abundant, yet she sometimes lets us taste of that which is more grateful. In the present instance she has been in a bountiful humour, the past claiming precedency over the present; an assurance you would well understand, were you circumstanced as I am in the Hotel de Midi, from whence I write. Such a combination of circumstances seldom occurs to enhance a day’s enjoyment, and to stamp it in the memory with its endearing reminiscences. The hilarity arising from a bright day to which few arc insensible, and the morning scene upon the waters, were, yesterday, chequered by taking leave of those I loved; an event which, even under the happiest circumstances, im¬ presses the mind with more or less melancholy; though it has been truly said that the worst, the most difficult part CHANSONS DEAN SWIFT. 1 1 of leave taking, is from the parlour to the hall-door. There is something in these partings, which, to a reflecting mind, reminds us of that final separation which sooner or later awaits us all. This conviction it was, no doubt, that caused a celebrated writer to exclaim upon a certain oc¬ casion, when about to part with a friend to whom he was sincerely attached : 44 May we never meet again /” meaning, no doubt, thereby, that if such were the pains of parting, it were better to avoid its recurrence. There are many anecdotes of the author of the 44 Tale of a Tub,” to prove, that, with much assumed roughness, he was possessed of a tender heart. 44 But ,’ 7 as the historian says, 44 to return.” There was nothins: of this kind to interfere with, to counteract the enjoyment which commenced from the moment I entered the steam-boat, my ears listening to and recognizing the voice of one of the minstrels, accompanied with the harp which I heard yesterday, singing a sort of parting admo¬ nition to the assembling passengers, in the words of the chanson , to which she imparted a peculiar interest, 44 Gar¬ den vous D Amour, Bergere From the moment I entered the steam-boat, until I left it at the midnight hour for the Hotel de Midi, from whence I write; from 44 morn to dewy eve, a summer s day, it was all 4 couleur de lose. Difficult to please, and ungrateful to Providence must I have been, not to have appreciated, not still to appreciate the golden hours which constituted a day, marked in my calen- dar, as having been fraught with every concomitant calculated 12 THE SEINE. to endear it to the recollection. Imagine me then gliding down the Seine, one of the most lovely of rivers, rich in interesting scenery, each side seeming to vie which should most attract our notice. Here , a town or village with its steeple close to the water’s side, and backed with rising woods, affording a luxuriant shelter ; and there , the ruined Chateau of Tankerville Castle, inviting the imagination to muse upon the busy and fruitful past. Such are the scenes which Harfleur and Tankerville Castle, alternately, on either side present. No sooner is the latter past than the wide and ample river spreads itself out, as it were a lake, again in, a little while, to resume its more humble character. There is something peculiarly delightful in the sensation of gliding down a spacious river, rich in its scenery, the mind awakening as the body becomes quiescent, particularly so on a day such as that with which we may be said to have been blessed, where we had nothing to distract the eye, or prevent the enjoyment of the inexhaustible food, now refreshing, animating, revigorating the soul. This intellectual repast is doubly exhilarating, when to this is added the co-operating charm of novelty, and the consum¬ mation of all, which I possessed, in being surrounded by persons of both sexes, who were embarked in the same vessel, and upon the same errand by a congenial taste ; one congenializing knot, in search of the same ore, abun¬ dant enough to gratify all who seek the inexhaustible mine. Amongst those who were partaking of this rich repast, I recognised several; but one party in particular, who had STEAMERS PARTY ON BOARD. 13 been fellow passengers in the Havre packet, who had, as well as myself, taken their passage from Portsmouth—a Mrs. O—the widow of an admiral, her daughter, and governess; the rest of the party consisted of a Mr. and Mrs. F_, from Warwickshire, and a Captain M-, of the Royal Navy. In spite of the cold distance which “ les Anglois” are too much in the habit of indiscriminately observing towards each other when thrown together by accident, they who have any tact will not make “ rules for themselves to err by.” Certain it is, that those who take too much precaution in these cases, have but a negative enjoyment. A sympathy springing from our admiration of the same object, fleeting before us, (as it was,) left us no time for con¬ sulting pride or prudence. The advances which I was in¬ duced to make in the first instance, without being indebted to the weather for a remark, were met with the urbanity which is never wanting in those who combine talent with good breeding. No chilling repulse followed an effort which was not misconstrued into presumption ; my observa¬ tions were met, as they were intended, with polite cordiality; and with more than I had a right to expect from a company who wanted not the aid of a stranger to add to their numbers or their harmony. Their kindness I am therefore ready to place to the account of their philanthropy, excited by my solitary state. To one who, like myself, had never been on the Continent, and who knew the French language (at least, to speak) imperfectly, the value of such attention must be felt, to be understood. It was therefore no small gratification 14 DINNER ON BOARD. to be asked to join their dinner party in the cabin which Captain M-, the director of the party, had bespoken. The rich mental feast of which we had been partaking, or rather the fine air around us, prepared us to welcome the more sensual fare which was rendered doubly grateful by the Cuisinier , who had done his best to make every thing good and piquant. “ Cotelets a la maintenon ” and rich “ patees de veau ,” were washed down by some excellent “ vin de Macon” In order to do justice to the eye and the palate at the same time, it was proposed to quaff our claret upon the deck. Here we beguiled the passing moments in plea¬ sant talk, mixed with remarks upon light and shade, until the former was fast departing, not with a doubtful appear¬ ance, but with such a promise of return as gave us the cer¬ tain earnest of a glorious morrow, banishing every fear, whilst inspiring gratitude for that which could never be wholly taken from us,—the feast of reason, of which we had been already partakers, (still remembered, though now num¬ bered with the past,) and that joyous hilarity which such a scene inspired. One of the ladies present, whom I found to be highly gifted, proposed that each of the party (the sun ap¬ proaching fast to his ocean pillow,) write something upon the occasion, in verse ; that, after being read aloud, we should consign the lines to a bottle, first partaking its contents, and then give it, corked and labelled, to the stream over which we were then passing. Behold! all pencils, all brains at work, and, at length, prepared to INVOCATION 110UEN. 15 read the votive offering. Whether it was, that a proposal I made, that we should label the bottle, and direct it to the enlightened Editor of the-alarmed the suddenly inspired knot, I know not, or to what cause to assign it, I am at a loss to say ; but my proposal was not attended to, though we each read over our several compo¬ sitions, to the mutual entertainment of those concerned. I much regret I could not persuade the parties to make an exchange of lines. There was one, in particular, of these impromptus, I should have much wished to have possessed, and only regret that I cannot recollect it. It was by one of the ladies. \ We arrived at Rouen at a most inconvenient hour, increased by a crowd, which, though near midnight, had col¬ lected, in hopes of seeing the Indians. Luckily, there was no further inspection of baggage: we were therefore not Ions: in reaching the Hotel de Midi; it was some time, however, before we were all accommodated. The auber- giste recognized, in Captain M--, an ancient customer, in spite of the disguise of his own immediate state, being “ half seas over.” His over anxiety to please now became inconvenient, as he would insist upon cracking a bottle of his “ vin ordinaire,” as a sort of “ all hail!” and, what was still worse, after the ladies had retired, upon our lis¬ tening to some adventures which had befallen him in Paris, which he had just left, at any time uninteresting to those who know nothing of the parties, the stories were not cal¬ culated to give us a high opinion of our host s moiality. ROUEN HOTEL. 16 Reversing the terms of Charles in the “ School for Scandal,” I was inclined to cry out against his immorality , and to request he would 66 shew us to our bed.” This was done at last, when I found that which was consigned to me not calculated to give a high opinion of the house, either for cleanliness or accommodation. I passed as good a night as I expected: and my expectations had not been much raised. The caffe au lait in the morning was better than the bed, and, with the bright sunshine of an August day, has helped to vanish all gloomy recollections; an effect which has been aided by the occupation in which I am now engaged, and which I must now, for the present, bring to a conclusion, with the assurance which custom, not neces¬ sity, I hope, enjoins. 17 LETTER III. Rouen — St. Owen — Visit to a Garden of an Englishman, at Rouen — Military Mass at Rouen Cathedral—Leave Rouen for Paris — Hotel d'ltalie — Visit to the Louvre — Franconi’s — Leave Paris in a Voiture for Geneva—Palace at Fontainbleau—Table upon which Napoleon signed his Abdication — Cathedral at Sens. Rouen, August 5. After tumbling and tossing upon a very bad bed, in a still worse room, I met our party at breakfast this morning in the Salle a-manger , all of whom, I was glad to find, had fared better than myself. After an excellent breakfast, we issued forth in search of the lions at Rouen. The first things which attracted our notice, were the two Cathedrals, especially that of St. Owen, a noble gothic building of Norman architecture. The interior of this magnificent Church, and its fine stained glass, meets with no impedi¬ ment to break the beauty of its long and graceful aisles, or destroy the effect of the coup deceit, which is highly imposing; whether we look up or around us, there is no impediment to the admiring eye. Here are no pews, such as we see in our cathedrals, which make the tout ensemble appear to less advantage. Chairs c 18 ST. OWEN. here are substituted, which are let out for a trifling sum for the time being, to such as may wish to occupy them. There is nothing but the long aisle with its £t dim religious light.” I should have made one exception, which I ought not to have forgotten, as it gave rise to some mirth at the moment; I allude to the confessional boxes, of which there were several here, though at this time un¬ occupied. We now repaired to the Tower, which we began to ascend, in hopes of getting a bird’s-eye view of Rouen and its environs. For this effort we were well repaid, with the exception of Miss 0-, who, when about half way up the stairs, grew giddy and took fright. Not¬ withstanding the winding steps are partially protected by a railing, as the intervals between the bars are wide, the depth below is not concealed from the person ascend¬ ing ; neither is the protection enough to make a very timid person feel secure. As the eye, Tacitus tells us, is that organ which first - takes fright in a battle, so was it in this case; Miss O—-—•, who was the last of the ascending party, from fright, was compelled to cling to the banister for protection. We did not at first perceive her situation, till she made us acquainted with the predicament in which she was placed by her cries, when Captain M -immediately went to her assistance, and conducted her in safety to ct terra firm a.” The rest of the party were repaid for their perseverance by the noble view of the Seine, and the environs of Rouen, MINE HOST, THE ROUE. 19 which amply reward the prospect-hunter for his trouble. In endeavouring to return to our hotel by another way, we lost ourselves; we were indebted to the lady immediately under my protection, for the speedy recovery of the loss, if such it could be called. Speaking French fluently, and addressing herself, at my suggestion, to Frenchmen only, we were soon furnished with such information as put us in the right road. “ Ayez vous le complaisance aller a-droit et encore au gauche et vous retrouverez bientot le rue que vous cherchez, et L’Hotel duMidi;” as far as I can re¬ member, this was pretty much the polite manner in which the lady’s request was met. After dining at the Table d’Hdte, which was well served, and reasonable, and which we should have enjoyed much more but for the officiousness and vulgarity of “ mine host,” the Roue , the ladies disappeared, for a purpose I was sorry to hear announced,—to pack up, and make other preparations for their departure on the following morning; Captain M-having purchased a carriage in the course of the day, which just held the party. It was not without some disappointment I was told in the morning, when my I’eau chaude was brought to me, that they were on the eve of departure. I made all the haste I could, but, to my regret, I found they had started before I could say adieu. Their early departure precluded me also from making, as I had intended, my thanks for their very kind attention, which made me for a while almost forget I was a solitary wanderer in a strange land. 66 Telle est la vie , the m nsation 20 ENGLISH GARDEN. of loneliness returned with their departure. It was not, however, of long duration;—the loss of my new acquaint¬ ance was amply compensated when the door opened,—and an old long-tried friend stood before,me;—never came friend at a more welcome hour. Finding I would not take Dieppe in my way to Paris, my brother-in-law came over from Dieppe to see me, being more conversant with the ways of the Continent, to help me, a novice, with his advice. As this could be imparted whilst walking, we directed our way towards the Boulevards, and after a complete inspection of these beautiful and shady walks, we paid a visit to a garden of considerable dimensions, laid out by an Englishman, and full of the most rare flowers and plants; amongst which the grandifloria, fusia, poligula , pomegranate , loria rosa , and nereum splen- dens , were conspicuous. Many acres are here laid out, including hot and green houses, with judgment and taste, and well repay the visitor for the time he may dedicate to the inspection. For my own part, I could have lingered all the day in this sweet spot. To the sweet succeeds the bitter in this life. They who have fortunately learnt what it is to have known a true friend , which so many pass through life without finding, can alone understand the pang of parting: yet what is this to the loss which I have since sustained, of which this was, as it were, alas ! a type ? I was well aware that I should have to undergo this penalty for the delight I had experienced in meeting one in a strange land. PARTING. 21 As soon as our ramble amidst the wilderness of sweets was over, the wife of the horticulturist, who was the re¬ presentative of Flora on this occasion, a comely and fair personage, of a “ certain age,” finished her courteous reception by presenting each of us with some of her most choice flowers : we then took our leave, expressing our thanks for her politeness. In another half hour my friend was on his way to Dieppe, while I had nothing to console me but my flowers, the fading leaves of which, bright as they were, only re¬ minded me of my loss, and once more, in the midst of a populous city, I found myself in solitude. The assurances that I was alone were too many and too appalling to admit of my banishing for a moment, the recollection, save when engaged in recounting, in obedience to my promise, the little incidents which have already befallen me, and which, unimportant as they are, will, I know, find an interest with you. To-morrow, being Sunday, I hope to see the celebration of mass in the cathedral, with all its accom¬ paniments of drums, trumpets, &c. &c., for it is, I under¬ stand, a half military ceremony. For the present, I will say, “ good night!” Paris, August, 1827. The return of the Sabbath-day determined me to visit the shrine of St. Owen again. Understanding the military were to assist at mass, I preferred this to the other Cathe¬ dral. It is impossible, I should think, for any devout * 2*2 ORGAN. person, let his religious opinions be what they may, not to feel an elevation of soul when he enters a magnificent building like that of St. Owen, dedicated to the worship of the Deity. The impression made upon me was increased by the sound of a deep bell, situated at an immense height, just over my head, with a seemingly suppressed or muffled tone, “ swinging slow with solemn sound.’ 1 The long interval between the strokes gave a peculiar and melancholy character to its tongue, vincing, was insuperable; and not wishing to take advantage of my dark passport, I accompanied my fellow travellers to the entrance gate of the gardens, where we found no difficulty in obtaining admission. The wardens of the Thuilleries have been too often O described to render it necessary to say a word upon the attractions they are universally admitted to possess, as a place of public accommodation. These gardens, as well as those of the Luxembourg , are well deserving of imitation in this country ; and it seems rather extraordinary, that a garden in the environs of our metropolis has not been laid out upon this principle, where the hortatory taste is full as strong, and as chaste perhaps, as it is in France. In the first instance, it is possible it might be necessary to place constables to prevent any depredations. After a little time, however, when the thing is understood, the flowers and shrubs would be as safe and sacred as they appear to be in the French Jardim. Beds and borders of flowers might be made with much advantage in Hyde Park, railed in as they are in France, while the dahlias and pomegranates might divide the attention of those who regale themselves with an hebdomadal walk in Hyde Park. I hope yet, that in a few years we shall see that realized which was only used in a metaphorical sense in the play,-—the 66 orange tree in blossom and in fruit at the same time,” and without any danger of its being plucked. I have heard it hinted, that it is in contemplation to lay out a part of the Regent’s Park in this manner. 27 FRAN CONIS-THE LOUVRE. After partaking of an excellent dinner and dessert, for which we paid five francs a head, including a bottle of vin de ma^on each person, we went to see Franconi’s equestrians in the Boulevards. The speed of the horses, the grace and agility of the riders, amongst which was a female, whose elegance and activity surpassed any thing I had ever seen at Astley’s or elsewhere, were the more to be admired, as there was not an appearance of any thing like a pad on any of the horses’ backs; a circumstance which must have added to the difficulty, especially where the motion was so unusually rapid. From Franconi’s we repaired to one of the Caffe’s which abound in the Boulevards, where we refreshed ourselves, after the heat of the crowded circus, with some punch 44 a la Romanie.” After a cursory view of the Louvre the next day, for we had not time to see any thing properly, we passed the rest of the day in looking out for some conveyance to Geneva : the coupes of the diligences which travel that road were all engaged for ten days to come. We did not like to lose time in Paris, as the weather was fine; besides, we might see Paris on our return; and yet we could not persuade ourselves to take places in the interieur , where we should not be enabled to see any thing, or at least very little of the country through which we were to pass. A voiture was the next thing which occurred to us; we made inquiries at different places where such a species of conveyance was to be had, and at last heard of one that 28 VO ITU RE. was to start the following day. The inside was engaged; but we were told that there was room for two persons outside, in a seat placed in front of the carriage, not unlike the dicky of a landaulet or chariot, over which was a sort of leather head, resembling, in shape, (though large enough for two persons,) a calash worn still by old ladies in country towns, who prefer trusting their own feet to those of chairmen or quadrupeds. How to accommodate the third person was the question : this, however, was ar¬ ranged by making up a seat on the top for the occasion : all that was necessary were a few boards. Suppose us, then, prepared to start, after having entered into a written agreement to pay live napoleons and a half each, (a sum, of which we paid half at starting,) and for which we were to be franked to Geneva, it being stipulated that the owner of the voiture was to provide, every day, for us a breakfast and dinner, and a good bed at night, and also to bring us to Geneva on the ninth day, “ pour price et somme de quatre cent francs, payable , moitie en partant , et Vautre moitie a Varrivee a Geneve ,” and two napoleons more, if we went to Venice. Amongst other stipulations was this, that we should be provided with four horses. A breach in this article having taken place in the first instance, we were not very sanguine in our expectations, and started with no small degree of despondency; but we had paid half our fare, and were without resource. Our fears were not a little augmented by the appearance of the horses, of which there were only three , one of which LE MEILLEUR CHEVAL. 29 appeared lame at starting: the rest were somewhat of the scare-crow, or I might say, I paintings and tapestry are well deserving attention: amongst the former, is a very fine portrait of Francis the First, and another of Henry Quatre. The tapestry is very good, though the colours are somewhat faded; and the keeping better observed than it is usually found to be in pictures of this description. Except Miss Linwood’s, I 9 never saw any worsted work that was perfect in this re¬ spect. This reminds me of an anecdote related by a fellow traveller, relative to Miss Linwood’s exhibition at Paris in Bonaparte’s time. Bonaparte, it is said, expressed himself much pleased with this lady’s works when at Paris, a cir¬ cumstance which occasioned at the time some remarks, the more so, as it happened at a period when he was outrageous against the English. Lord Plunket who is well known for his bon-mots, as well as for his legal talents, and exertions in behalf of Catholic emancipation, was at the time at Paris, and accounted for the admiration which Napoleon had expressed at seeing Miss Linwood’s works, by saying, “ nothing was more natural than that Bonaparte should be pleased at seeing the English worsted The ceilings are highly gilt, too much so; but even this is better than throwing away the labour of a good artist in painting that, which no one likes to pay the penalty of examining, and which, indeed, is not always to be exa¬ mined with impunity; in such a position, the price of tor¬ ture being disproportionate to the gratification,—the risk dislocating of ttie neck. The chapel here has not escaped the French mania for gorgeous glitter. 32 napoleon’s abdication table. We were well treated at the (i Lion d’Or.” After an excellent dinner and dessert, at which we had an opportu¬ nity of becoming better acquainted with the Countess and her son, the young Chevalier, we retired at an early hour to rest, that we might be better able to start early in the morning, the only chance we had of making our way, as we never travelled more than three , and often only two , stages a day. Before I retired, I amused myself with looking over the book in which travellers are expected to enter their names, to say from whence they came, and, if they can , “ whence they are going.” No wonder such a request is often burlesqued. Amongst others, were the (of course) fictitious names of “ Lord and Lady Cranky, on a tour for their health;” another gentleman and lady, after their names, seeing the request, I suppose, in the same point of view, had added, “ why or wherefore they came there, they could not say , or whither they were going.” I had almost forgot to mention our having seen the table, not amongst the least of the curiosities of the Palace of Fontainbleau, upon which Napoleon Bonaparte signed his abdication of the throne which he had waded through so much blood to obtain. This table, which is very small, is fastened with a catch , underneath which, when uplifted, a brass plate appears, declaring the event to which it has been a passive accessory. What, also, is deserving of notice, is a part of the garden dedicated “ a VHonneur” where a collection of busts are placed on pedestals, amongst SENS. which none are admitted but those who have entitled themselves to this distinction by 44 deeds of arms.” We started at five o’clock the next morning for Ville- neuve le Guyard. We did not reach Sens till late in the evening, in consequence of an or age, with which we were visited, much to the annoyance and alarm of the Countess. I was not a little surprised at the sagacity she shewed, in foreseeing that of which I could see no appear¬ ance. After two or three appeals to our cocker , to apprise him of the coming storm, he hastened his speed; indeed, the horses seemed to be sensible that something: was in store, or possibly anticipated the quiescent state which awaited them; whilst the cheval boiteuoo seemed to have forgot his sufferings, moving on with a celerity propor¬ tioned to the impatience of the driver, who now suddenly turned into a farm yard on the left-hand side of the road. In a few minutes more the horses were in the stable, and the carriage under a shed, just in time to avoid a torrent of rain which now fell, accompanied with vivid flashes of lightning, and tremendous peals of thunder. We expe¬ rienced much kindness and attention from the people of the house, who were of the humblest order of peasantry, making us welcome to their cheer, consisting of coarse bread, good cream, and thin claret. I could not help observing a churn, of a very small description, made of earthenware, and not larger than a large pitcher, a very accommodating article for a small family. After giving- them a few francs, for which they returned i) 34 MONUMENTS A T many thanks, and wishes of a bon voyage , we once more found ourselves on the high road to Sens, a place we did not reach till a late hour, when only the “ imperfect sur¬ faces of things are seen,”—of course too late to see to advan¬ tage the celebrated monument in the cathedral by Guil¬ laume Couston. We lost no time in making the effort, but at last were obliged to call in the aid of a torch. If this light injured the general effect, as we took, in turn, a view of each of the fine figures which constitute the monument, our attention was less divided, and we soon discovered how just the claim which each has to peculiar celebrity. It is difficult to decide which has the most attraction, the figures of Religion, Immortality, or Time, the latter of which is contrasted in its hard boldness with that intended to designate conjugal love; the figure of a youth, repre¬ sented holding Hymen’s torch, extinguished and reversed, and looking with grief at an infant, who is described in sorrow, breaking a wreath of flowers, symbolic of the union of affection. The artist is supposed to have designedly placed the figure of Time, who is trampling on the wreck and ruin he has made, on the side next the nave of the church, while the side next the altar is consigned to Reli¬ gion and Immortality, as being sources from which alone mortals can derive consolation. The two urns of porphyry are supposed to contain the ashes of the Dauphin and the Dauphiness. That of the Dauphin, who died first, is enveloped by the veil of Time, while he appears to be endeavouring to enclose that of the 3 *> SENS CATHEDRAL. Dauphiness, who was living when the monument was com¬ menced by order of Louis the Fifteenth. The figures of Religion and Immortality are said to have been erected by Julien, a celebrated sculptor, an eleve of Couston. The epitaphs, which are engraved in golden letters upon the sides of the pedestal, were composed by the Cardinal De Luynes, Archbishop of Sens, and once Chaplain to the Dauphin. The cypress leaves which sur¬ round the epitaph, are inimitably finished, and worthy of the monument, which is fully equal to any in Westminster Abbey. It runs thus: — u Epitaphe des augustes Prince et Princesse Louis , Dauphin de France , et Marie Josephe de Sacce , son EpouseP But your eyes, as well as my own, demand rest; without further ceremony, I shall exchange my pen for my pillow, not wishing to give you a pillow in my pen. So “ good night !” This town has given birth to several Chevaliers (Moreau amongst the rest,) who distinguished themselves in the French Revolution. LETTER IV. Joigny — Pont de Pargny — Procession at St. Laurient — Fete—Female Saint — Reuss — The Jura Mountains — Lake of Geneva — Mr. Can¬ ning — The Blue Rhone —Arrive at Geneva — c La Ballance.’ Ballance, Geneva, August. There is nothing very particular between Sens and Joigny. The road runs between an avenue of lofty trees, with swelling hills on each side, covered with vines. We got to Dijon to breakfast, on the fifth morning, having slept the night before at Pont de Pargny, from whence I shall take you at once, nothing particular occurring in the intermediate stage, to Dijon, where we remained four or five hours. Our attention was attracted, in walking through the streets, by a crowd which had collected round the shop of a marchand des modes. We found, upon inquiry, the object of curiosity was a woman, said to be 114 years of age, who was then in the shop, making a bargain for a cap. She presently made her appearance with her purchase, and after making a curtesy to the surrounding spectators, marched off quite alert, taking one of the arms of her D IJ O N MOUNT ST. VAUDRY. A / companion as her support, but without the aid of a crutch. From the numerous lines in her face, I could easily sup¬ pose the representation of her age was correct. I observed, this day, several very line walnut trees, in full bearing, close to the road side, reminding me of the u nux ego juncta vise” of Ovid. Could it have been gifted with a voice, as was the peculiar privilege of the poet’s tree, the fruit was not enough advanced to have put it in danger of assault, or have justified a complaint of battery, “ pre- tereunte petor.” We visited the churches at Dijon, at one of which I saw, for the first time, a fashionable lady at confession, and one of a humbler rank, waiting to take her place at the confessional box. At Mount St. Vaudry, where we stopped to breakfast the following day, I was challenged to play a game at billiards by the Countess, who played with a cue, and fairly beat me. I saved my credit, however, with her son, who, by his rash and juvenile play, without entitling me to much credit, made me in my turn a conqueror. The country was beginning fast to assume a more in¬ teresting character, gradually preparing us, in its cottages and peasantry, for the more interesting land which we were fast appproaching. At Poligny, where we slept, the Countess surprised us with some wine, which, from its sparkling nature, we at first took to be champagne, but which we afterwards learnt was called Vin d'Arbois. Mount St. Vaudry is celebrated for this wine. If any thing, 38 PROCESSION AT ST. LAU RIENT. it is rather sweeter than, but like, champagne. As we were not allowed to pay our share of this extra expense, we ordered two or three bottles to be put up in the voi - ture , with which we intended surprising the Countess the next day at Mori; but the best intentions in this world are sometimes defeated: the virtue of the wine, in a great degree, had evaporated; the spirit was not the same, and we could scarce recognise it to be the same wine. This was a fete day, in honour of some female saint, as we afterwards found. We had an opportunity of seeing the ceremony in all its gradations. Imprimis , at St. Laurient, a procession from the church, through the street and back again. I observed there were very few men, and those of a very indifferent appearance; the chaunting was nasal and bad. The procession was headed by a female, carry¬ ing a banner or painting, (as I suppose,) representing the female saint. At Mori, I should have supposed th c fete to have been in honor of Bacchus, judging from the noise, and flushed countenances, of the crowd of worshippers through which we were obliged to pass on foot. The cocker , who had let the Countess out at her own request, to walk down the steep hill that leads to Mori, having for¬ got to fulfil his promise of waiting for her at the bottom of it, we were obliged, as we had lost sight of the carriage, to ask, now and then, which way they were gone; interro¬ gatories the addressed did not, all of them, seem disposed to answer. Although the Countess complained much of the insolence of our conducteur , as she either felt herself iii his power, or was disposed to forgiveness, I did not sec the necessity of telling him all that I thought of his con¬ duct. Perhaps it was as well I did not, as the sulky man¬ ner in which he received my remonstrances, did not seem to augur me any good. The horrid oaths he had made use of, which the halting gait of his leader, who now literally had only three legs to move upon, and the laughter of the crowd had drawn forth, together with a countenance which betokened no very amiable temper or forbearance, made it prudent to cut short my reproaches. I began to think I had reproached him once too often about le cheval boiteucc,—le meilleur cheval ,—and that if I wished to see Mont Blanc it was time for me to hold my tongue. They had not finished their orgies when we left Mori at four o’clock in the morning. I perceived now we had five horses in the carriage, and, to my surprise, le cheval boiteux was not amongst the number; a circumstance at which I could not help feeling some delight, if not exulta tion. I was too premature, it seems, in my conclusions, for upon reminding his enemy of my prophecy, that 44 he would leave us in the lurch, sooner or later” he was mute and sulky, nodding his head at the same time, as if to imply that we had not yet taken leave of him. I found we had a very long and steep hill to ascend. I was not sorry to find that we kept company with the Dili- trence, though I soon had reason to wish we had led the way, instead of being followers as we were, and frequently 40 J IRA MOUNTAINS. obliged to stop, from the slow pace of the Diligence, at the risk of our own lives, by being driven back : luckily, the lame horse was not with us : we had some better stay in the quality of those added to our number, or we might have been backed over the precipice, at the edge of which we were, without a fence of any sort to stop the carriage, should the horses have proved unequal to the draft. The chasm seemed yawning, as if ready to receive us; a false step, perhaps, making our destruction inevit¬ able, should a retrograde course once commence. This ascent continues for nearly six miles, till you reach lleuss, where we were detained for a considerable time, while our passports were examined. There was no examination of our baggage, though a very strict one is made of those who return this way from Geneva. The day, which had been wet, cold, and foggy, began now to clear up, and we soon arrived at La X allay, the place where breakfast was prepared.—We were now on the Jura Mountains. After a hasty breakfast, we agreed to walk on, leaving the carriage to overtake us : we looked down to the right, upon a deep, but lovely, valley : to the left, was a vine-clad steep, while, here and there, a bold rock gave variety to the scene. The road, in many places, gave evidence that the “ mountain went down,” occasionally, to the “ valley below,” where I observed several chalets, all built about the centre of the valley, whilst many of them evinced the necessity of such a precaution, by the neigh¬ bouring blocks of granite, several of which had approached mu. canning’s death. 41 very near the huts which, had they advanced a few paces further, they must have inevitably crushed. Some had passed even beyond the cabins, as if not bent on destruc¬ tion,—as if they wished to spare. Woe to the traveller who happens to be passing at such a moment, when these rocks leave the parent bed ! We were lamenting the loss of this picturesque valley, by the road turning suddenly to the left, making inquiries, at the same time, for our road; and when we might hope to get a sight of the Lake of Geneva, which, all at once, burst upon our sight in all its bluey brightness, though not in all its extent. It was amongst these mountains that my thoughts recurred to the melancholy intelligence I had heard the day before, of the death of George Canning, to the irre¬ parable loss which England—I might add, all Europe— had sustained, just at the moment when his services were likely to confirm the high opinion entertained of his all- comprehensive talents; when he was rising victorious over, and proving the weakness, the imbecility of, his enemies, • and about to confute the prejudices of insane Bigotry. The green isle of Erin will hear the annunciation with tears. The redresser of her wrongs, the advocate of her claims, is no more ! The popular mediator, who would have made her valleys smile,—Commerce to lift again her joyous head, where she has long longed to shew herself, but dared not to place her foot on those shores which invite her approach, but from whence she has been driven by 42 LINES ON MU. CANNING. party spirit and distraction ; he, who would have broken her chain, 44 is dead—is gone to his death-bed ! I had just finished the last of the few lines which appear here, when the thread of my thoughts was broken by the sound of the wheels of the carriage. I found the web was broken, past recovery, so left it as you will find it here :— TO TIIE MEMORY OF GEORGE CANNING.* (Written amongst the Jura Mountains, where the Author was'first informed of the loss Europe had just sustained.) Poplar!—metliinks, as now I turn my ear, To list the sighing sound amid thy leaves. As from the hills far off—anon—now near. It comes by tits, thy trembling limbs it heaves;— Metliinks thy voice sounds like a mourner's, when It breaks—solemn and sad—from yonder glen. Heard in Mount Jura,— in her woods,—the vale Which saddens, like Britannia, at the tale;— “ Canning’s no more !” upon whose gifted tongue Senates, applauding loud, with rapture hung. Mourn it, ye Mountains, where his Spirit roams ; Raise high your voices in your rocky domes ;— Let every hill, and those most near the sky,— Too near for man,—to Jura's voice reply. Each vine-clad valley, let it catch the strain,— Let Erin’s isle reverberate again,— For gone is he who would have broke her chain!— ****** * The author, when writing the above passage, was little aware of the great event which has since taken place, or how great a victory the nation was about to achieve over the most stubborn of foes,— Prejudice and Bigotry. LAKE OF GENEVA. 43 These lines were written when mv fellow-travellers were occupied in some inspection, which left me for a time to myself and my own thoughts. The sight of the lake, and the chain of mountains beyond it, gave these now a new direction. It is astonishing how naturally the thoughts rise with the subject which occupies them. I never experienced a stronger instance of this truth than in one of my com- pagnons de voyage , who, till now, a plain-spoken man, began to launch out in expressions of admiration approach¬ ing to the sublime. After his first 44 quoi de grander he observed that the scene before us was certainly the 44 chef d’oeuvre ” of the great Maker of the universe. I caught the lofty strain, and could not help adding, that if ever the Deity descended to the earth, I should think this the spot he would prefer, as being the handy work of which, perhaps, he would have most reason to be proud. As we stood, still enchained in admiration to the spot, the view improved upon us, the envious clouds gradually withdrawing themselves, all but one,—that one which still concealed the summit of Mont Blanc from our sight; but I did not expect to be favoured so soon with an unveiled sight of his majestic brow, 44 half hid in jealous hood,” like the hero in a dramatic piece, who does not make his appearance immediately the curtain rises. He seemed now to be holding silent converse with the heavens, and indisposed to unveil his majestic head. On many ol the higher peaks ol the neighbouring mountains in attendance, 44 VIEW OF MONT BLANC. the clouds wore the semblance of smoke, as if the “ moun¬ tain worshippers” were offering up their incense to their Creator. Their shapes were continually varying, yet still keeping up the delusion, raising our hopes one moment, and disappointing them the next; coquetting, as it were, with their admirers’ rapture. Our attention was withdrawn from their Titanian attraction, or rather divided, by the bright blue lake, whose broad and ample bosom reflected the mountains, decked as they were with snow, and mist, and cloud, in its lovely tranquil mirror. Never will the scene be erased from my memory; warmed as was my imagina¬ tion before this, it was hitherto but half kindled. The view of such a scene can alone teach us properly to comprehend the beauty and feel the grandeur of such a sight, or to understand and appreciate the enthusiasm which the first sight of Switzerland from the Jura Moun¬ tains inspires. I saw only the one thing before me, the object I had been dreaming of for years: my dreams had fallen short of the reality. The brightness of its Maker was typified in his mighty work. I do not wonder that our forefathers should have made choice of such mountains, on which to offer up their worship. In a few days more, we, I trust, shall be at the foot of this monarch Mountain. We walked down the steep road that leads to Geneva, and which we could now see in the distance, if we could be said to see any thing but those great grand objects T H E R H O N E THE BALLANCE. 4 > which so fully absorbed our attention. We soon after found ourselves on the banks of the blue and rapid Rhone, and, after crossing it, in a few minutes more, at the Bal- lance, from whence I write. In a day or two, you may expect to hear more upon a theme on which I could for ever dwell. LETTER V. Difference between Switzerland and Italy—Geneva — Model of Swiss Mountains — View from the Jura Mountains — Visit to Furney — Sheet lightning on our return. Geneva, August, 1827. In making a tour through Italy, it either becomes pro¬ gressively more interesting to the traveller, as we advance forwards on the Peninsrda, as we draw nigh to that cele¬ brated spot which, it is said, is not only the very acme of all that constitutes excellence of climate, but which can also boast of works of art, little inferior to those by the aid of which the by-gone mistress of the world attracts so many strangers to her walls. To a combination of charms, amongst which food may be found for the “ curious as well as the pleasure-hunter,” we are indebted to the proverb cc Vide Napoli e per mori,'’ “ See Naples ere you dieintending thereby to insinuate, that after seeing this city and its neighbourhood, every thing else will appear >: ;■-,- T^vnv a/ S7ee tel'. 7xi7ccH' oyi the* Spot faptfa'TRew? i ^ 77r ' ^ t a di &r(l JrintwL fa u tfubbnKruUl TIEWneai CIEBE .. .between S alien.cite and. Cbamouni TuMwTi tcl ly Smith JlSrr SCf CornMl GLACIERS. 57 the right, in order to get a sight of the Alpine bridge which crosses the noisy Arve. I saw several wild plum trees in full bearing, as well as an “ acacia ” in full bloom. The view from Montees, where you enter the Valley of Chamouni, affords a fine view, as well as echo. We soon afterwards got a view of the small glacier of Taconai, then, that of “ Des Boissons,” and, at length, that of “ Des Bois.” The road then passes the torrent at Nant de Nagin, the village of Ouches, and brings you to the Prieure, and Chamouni, the first view of which is highly striking. The glacier of “ Des Boissons,” with its frozen waves, makes, as it were, an appropriate base for the moun¬ tain, extending as it does to the lower part of the valley, and forming an awful feature in the mighty landscape. When we sat down to dinner at the table d'hote, with about forty others, notwithstanding the good cheer spread before us, and the keen appetite which the mountain air had created, our thoughts never lost sight of the one great object which we were all in search of, as was evinced by the simultaneous movement of every person, when we, as if with one consent, starting from our seats at a signal, flew to the window, which commanded a view of Mont Blanc, to be seen now in all its beauty and grandeur, its peaks lit up with the last rays of the setting sun, casting its roseate tint over the pure and silent snows. The effect was increased as some clouds which still hovered round its Dome, but beneath its highest apex, gave what it scarcely wanted, a fictitious height to the ambitious mountain. 58 MONT BLANC. The effect of these clouds was still more apparent upon what is called the Aiguilles, a name given to these rocks from their resemblance to needles in shape, whose escarped points appeared like the pinnacles of a rich gothic cathe¬ dral, claiming a higher region than earth for its worship¬ pers ;—belonging, as it were, to the skies. When we first caught a view of these pinnacles, upon our first approach to Mont Blanc, they appeared like silver minarets;—they were now like burnished gold. Our eyes were now withdrawn from the mountain, gra¬ dually becoming fainter, till wrapt in the robe of night, by several groups returning from their various excursions, while the sound of the bells of the cows, returning from the mountains, to be milked, broke sweetly the still grandeur of the scene. We were not sorry, after making arrangements with our guides for the following morning, to retire to our chambres a-coucher that we might be the better pre¬ pared for leaving them at an early hour the following morning, in order to ascend the green mountain. I shall not close my letter till after to-morrow’s visit, till when I will say, “ good by I” LETTER VII. Visit to Montanvcrt — Mer de Glace—Visit to the source of the Arveiron — Rose of the Alps — Pomegranates — Saying of the Guides to those ivho shew any reluctance to follow them. August 18 . The guide was ready at an early hour with a mule; my companions walked. The road continues for a consider¬ able way by the side of the Arve, before you begin to ascend Montan vert; the path to which assumed a more fearful appearance, as being the first time in my life I had ever been placed in such a situation, mounting a steep and rugged path, very narrow, with a deep precipice below, into which one false step might plunge you. The guide now directed our attention to the root of a tree, out of which four embryo trees, of different species, were growing; no equivocal proof of the luxuriance of the verdant mountain whose side we were climbing. As we approached nearer to the higher point of the mountain, in compliance with the guide’s entreaties, I mounted my mule again, fearing I should reach the frozen region we were 00 MER DE GLACE. bound for (the Mer de Glace) in too warm a state for At length we reached the chalet upon Montanvert, and after having partaken of some refreshment, washed down with some 44 l’eau de Cerise,” a spirit distilled from the wild cherry, we descended to the 44 Mer de Glace,” each with a spiked staff. My first intention was to have proceeded no further on the ice than might have enabled me to say I had trod the ice waves; I was well aware that I was but ill prepared for such an expedition, having on a thin pair of Wellington boots, when I ought to have had a stout pair of shoes, with plenty of nails in them. I felt unwil¬ ling when once launched on the ice, to relinquish an ad¬ venture in which I began to find myself interested, and to which I was now urged by my companion, who expressed a wish to cross to the opposite side. At first, I found the sides of these ice waves more difficult to ascend than I afterwards found them to be, when I discovered that the best mode of getting to the summit was to run up them, fastening my spike in the ice as I proceeded, the guide assisting me in my descent, by far the most dangerous and difficult part of the undertaking. At length, after passing several crevices, we were stopped by one, the width of which required no small care in passing; we were about three parts over what is called the Mer de Glace when our career was thus impeded. The guide declared it was too great an undertaking to attend two persons, it being a rule that each person should have a guide on SOURCE OF THE ARVEIRON. (j 1 such occasions, as is the case always with those who visit the “Mer de Glace,” or the “Jardin,” which, in point of danger and difficulty, is as easy to reach as it is to cross the ice in any one direction, the only difference consisting in the distances, and the more frequent occur¬ rences of these chasms of ice. Our return was rendered somewhat more difficult by our not being able to remember the exact course we took. Once, while on the extreme edge of one of these ice-waves, I found my arm suddenly and strongly grasped by the guide; why, or wherefore, I did not know, until, upon looking behind me, I beheld at the bottom of the wave, on the top of which I then was, a yawning crevice beneath me, and into which, had my foot slipped, I must have been precipitated. I was not sorry when I found myself once more at the “ Morain the stony boundary of the ice. Instead of proceeding directly for the Chalet we had stopped at, we took a circuitous path higher up, where, although the wood had ceased to grow, we met with abundance of wild flowering shrubs, particularly the rhodondendron, the bilberry, and a wild species of the pomegranate, in high beauty. It now became a question whether we should descend by the path we came, or by a steep and rugged way, leading to the source of the Arveiron, which forces its way from underneath pyramids of ice of the most fantastic forms. Although I felt rather fatigued, I could not resist the hope of the reward which, at the end, promised to make amends for the undertaking. 02 ARCH OF ICE. My mule was sent round to meet us at the bottom of the mountain, at the foot of the Glacier Des Bois. As we approached the source of the noisy Arveiron, the Glacier, from which the river issues, and of the contiguity to which we had ample notice in its distant roar, was seen to raise its aspiring head, while the wood on the opposite side formed a fine contrast and side scene to the towering O icy spires from whence the bellowing torrent was now seen to force its way, as if reluctant to leave its bed. After fretting on in its course for a little way, it disappears again, as if it preferred the cold sepulchre, from whence it came, to the light of day, and the noisy existence into which it seems thus unwillingly to be called. Breaking through all obstacles, it soon, however, is forced forward by succeeding currents, once more leaves its gelid, uneasy bed, muttering and foaming through the valley, as if in¬ dignant at the fate assigned it, and sweeping by Chamouni in its hurrying and desperate course. The arch formed by the melting of the ice, as it partially yielded a way to the intruding stream, and of which travellers beheld and spoke of, till lately, with so much enthusiasm, is no longer to be seen. It fell suddenly, one day, and, unfortunately, at a time when a too curious visitor who had proceeded too far up its narrow channel, paid the forfeit of his life for his rash curiosity. When we reached the termination of the Glacier, I found my mule waiting for me. As I returned by the side of the stream, I was much struck by the contrasted LE JAR DIN. 03 tints which the mountains we had just descended pre¬ sented: the lighter green of the larch harmonizing well as it blended with the deeper shade of the luxuriant pines, contrasted again by the Glacier, which looks as if it had been suddenly shaped and arrested by the magic wand of some enchanter, just as it was pouring down into, and overwhelming the valley below. Here was a study for a landscape painter, enough to employ him, and to repay him, for the dedication of a summer to the fertile theme. We found a large company assembled at the table d'hote , my fellow travellers, amongst the number, who had been to the Jardin. They described it as a dangerous as well as a laborious undertaking, while the exultation at the achievement was somewhat qualified by hearing that a lady and her daughter had been there a day or two before them, who had slept upon the ice, with that view, the night before. The vain glory of those who would wish to be thought to have purchased a right to the title of adventurous, without encountering too much hazard, was much “ shorn of its beams, 1 ’ by the assurance of the ouide, who, when he sees any thing like hesitation in the guided , affirms that the thing is quite safe; concluding all by the encouraging affirmation, u les dames passent la.” But where will not the dames pass when spuned on by curiosity, that great basis of enterprise to man, and woman too ? But I must now introduce you to a “ Lady of the Mountains.” 04 MARIA OF MONT BLANC. Maria of Mont Blanc is not altogether an imaginary character :—mention is made, in Dr. Clarke’s narrative of his and Captain SherwelPs ascent of Mont Blanc in 1825, of Maria of Mont Blanc, a name which was given her by the guides, in consequence of her having been where no woman was ever supposed to have been before, to the sum¬ mit of Mont Blanc. It seems she had been from early life, probably from the attachment of one of the guides of Chamouni, in the habit of accompanying them to great heights on the mountain, to which no woman, and few men, except the guide, would venture; and where she was often in the habit of preparing a repast, to cheer them on returning from their perilous undertakings. Grateful for these attentions, they determined upon taking her to the summit of the great mountain, an envied spot, which, by their assistance, she was enabled to reach. It was to this circumstance she was indebted for the title of u Maria of Mont Blanc.” * * Some apology, perhaps, may be thought necessary for inserting here a poem which has made its appearance in another place , 1 lest the author may be thought to evince any undue partiality for the fair subject of his muse , and, like Pygmalion, to have fallen in love with his own creation.—The only plea he can offer for thus introducing the 44 bewildered maid ” of Chamouni a second time, is the hope that she may create an interest, not only with those who now meet with her for the first time, but an increased interest with those by whom she may be recognised under the improved dress in which, the author hopes, the 44 poor Maria” now appears. 1 “ The Legend of Einsidlin,” and other Poems, published by Saunders and Ottley. MARIA OF MONT BLANC. MARIA OF MONT BLANC. Oh ! tell me, tell me, who is she. Blest with a soft, yet glowing 1 mien, Who the blanched mountain treads with Mee ? O Maria of Mont Blanc, I ween ! She her own true love to meet. Fresh from the perilous glacier. With eager eye prepares to greet, Anxious his well-known voice to hear. And has she left her calm chalet ?— ’Tis love that urges her to dare The giant hill, the icy sea ; Enough had been Maria’s prayer ! But Love can never danger know ; Safety seems ever at his side ; Then verdant mead becomes the snow. The torrent wrath a gentle tide. So thought Maria, as unkenn’d She followed Julien, void of fear, As she beheld him upwards bend. While he recked not the maid was near. And ev’n when now a darksome cloud The faithful pair was thrown between, Spite of the flash, the thunder loud. His path by love’s keen eye was seen ! F MARIA OF MONT BLANC. This track, it must be his!—Oh, yes ! ’Tis Fate that tells me so—then here His toil-worn frame to hail and bless, I’ll sit me down—prepare his cheer. Oft, thus, Maria to defy The crevice learnt,—the crag to spurn, To greet him with the glowing eye Of welcome, on his glad return. Oft J ulien couched on snowy bed. The stars for his bright canopy. Beneath the shivering tent when spread. Listened to the rude lullaby Of Avalanche—then his humble roof Came in his broken sleep to mock ; Far off’ then wished De Couth’s woof,* While harder felt the Mulet’s rock.f * “ Le Dome de Goute,” the name given to one of the heights of Mont Blanc, so called from the shape of the dark rocks which com¬ pose it. *|* There are two rocks upon which the snow never rests, and which have, therefore, been made use of, by those who visit Mont Blanc, as a resting-place. Here adventurers pass the first night, and get as much sleep as such a rough bed is capable of affording. The Grand Mulet, the rock usually chosen on this occasion, is of a conical shape, a precipice nearly three hundred feet high on one side, and one hundred on the other. The latter is the one selected on such an occasion, and those who select it, pour passer le nuit , must climb till they arrive nearly at the top, before they find a platform wide enough to afford them such a negative accommodation. See Auldjo's Narrative of an Ascent of Mont Blanc . MARIA OF MONT BLANC. 67 Julien, his comrades homeward wend. Quick jump the crevice—fond lips meet, A joyous welcome speak, and lend A charm can make e’en danger sweet! A day past—and again the beam Of summer sun the guiding hand Asks of the mountaineer—the dream Is fled—start forth the venturous band. They mount the icy wave elate. Snow pillow find again—the morn Breaks on their pallet chill—Oh, Fate !— Would thou wert of thy dark veil shorn !— Scorning or danger, steep, or cold. The lovely maid of Chamouni, By custom as by love made bold. Is towards the mountain seen to hie; Scarce fleeter e’en that airy thing With pinion bright that loves to soar, In summer’s ray that spreads its wing, When winter comes, its gambols o’er. And now she seeks Du Midi’s peak,* Where hangs the Lauwine o’er its prey, * The “ Aiguille du Midi” is thus described by Mr. Auldjo. “ From these magnificent scenes, and over this plain, we hurried as speedily as circumstances would allow, to avoid those dangerous avalanches which fall continually from the “ Aiguille du Midi,” sweeping every thing before them. The pyramids of ice which rose on either side of us, in all the sublime variety of nature, forming a thousand different shapes. 08 MARIA OF MONT BLANC. Threatening with sudden swoop to break : The rough Moraine * stops not her way! Once more Maria kens the mark Where Julien trod the yielding snow, An ice-gulph stops her way.—Oh ! hark ! What sound is that ?—’tis from below 1 Now silent all, and cold as death— No!—nothing stirs !—all—all is still! All buried seem one shroud beneath, Save dark snow-bird f with yellow bill. Too fleet sad Truth, with dark wing, flies ! Dark moving forms the mantle white Of nature blurring, she descries;— They now approach, her hopes to blight!— No Julien with them—now more near They come !—“ He should have led the way “ Alas ! my Julien not there ! “ Their looks I read !—Ah ! luckless day!’' kept me rivetted to the spot, and, as they increased in number and size, I became lost in admiration, unwilling to leave them and move forward, until the voice of the guide exhorted me to hasten from the dangers with which I was momentarily threatened.”— Auldjo's Nar¬ rative , &e. * A name given to the rough and steep stony barrier which is found at the extremities of the glaciers, composed of rocks which have fallen upon the ice from the overhanging precipices, and which move forward as the ice advances to the valleys. t A bird of the crow species, which is often to be seen on the Geinmi and other mountainous regions, called by the natives Davi; but which is, no doubt, the “ Corvus pyrrhocorvax.” I MA1UA OF MONT BLANC. (j