Part 6

We had not advanced far, ere the country opened, if possible, into an increased blaze of beauty. Close to us were well-wooded mountains; on the left, vineyards trained in the graceful Italian fashion I have lately mentioned; far below us, on the right, was a limpid river, sweetly winding though a valley, and on all sides villas (beautiful in themselves and most romantically situated) lent an additional grace and charm to the scene. The road was a perfect bower of walnut trees; and the attractions of some of the peasant children, whom we now and then met, with their large black eyes, and peculiar style of beauty, told us that we were fast approaching the confines of Italy.

We now ascended a steep winding road, which leads to the summit of a mountain called _La Montagne de l'Eschelles_. I find it more than ever impossible to give any just and proportionate idea of the enchanting prospects which every moment rose upon our delighted eyes! to conceive them properly, they must be _seen_. We distinguished paths amid the woody sides of the opposite heights, which looked as lovely as if they led to Paradise; and I longed to spring from the confinement of the carriage, and to explore their wild and exquisitely romantic terminations, although the shades of evening, fast closing upon us, might have rendered such an attempt most perilous. The low parapet wall, erected within the last eight years by that mighty enchanter Napoleon, (who seemed, while his "star was lord of the ascendant," to do all he wished with _un coup de baguette_), preserved us from the danger of falling down the precipice which yawned by the side of our road; and also completely obviated the sort of nervous sensation which travellers are so apt to feel while gazing upon the awful depths which surround them! Upon turning a sharp angle, the rocks, in vast and stupendous masses, rose perpendicularly above our heads, amidst which we were amazed to perceive several cottages "perched like the eagle's nest, on high." Rousseau has ably painted this incomparable scene, in his _Nouvelle Heloise_, and I was gratified in thus convincing myself of the accuracy and truth of his pencil. As we passed near these lonely habitations, the breath of the cows belonging to the rustic inmates, mingled sweetly with the scent of the leaves and aromatic herbs, and added new fragrance to the soft and refreshing winds of evening. This wild ravine was succeeded by the milder beauties of a green and mossy bank, rising above smiling meadows; the contrast was striking. These are sights indeed, which might arouse the dullest of mortals, and which make the hearts of those gifted with sensibility and imagination swell high within them!

Echelles, a small town, standing in a valley, completely hemmed in with majestic mountains. We drank our tea and slept here at _La Poste_, and I sat out, as long as it was prudent, in an open wooden gallery, (which ran round the outside of the house, and commanded a view of the superb scene), talking with the hostess, a cheerful, well-looking young woman, who was overwhelmed by the number of her progeny. The youngest of the children, a little girl of three years old, came up to me and laid her head upon my knees, with the happy ease of innocent confidence, chattering bad French with all her might; the mother also introduced two of her sons to us (boys of five and seven), who ran in to bid her good night before they went to bed, and to hug and kiss her. The youngest (a fine sturdy rogue) told me that he always said his prayers, and that after _le bon Dieu_, he loved "Maman." This woman, in the midst of her rustic simplicity, had had the true good sense of presenting the Deity to the infant imaginations of her children, under the attractive image of an indulgent parent, thus fulfilling the sacred command of "Give me thine heart." A convent of the Chartreuse still exists in the neighbourhood; I believe it is the famous convent of _La Grande Chartreuse_, a most interesting spot, but inaccessible to women. I made inquiries about some of the natural productions of these mountains, and learnt that so many superior simples and aromatic plants (_note_ A) grew there, as to induce the apothecaries and chemists who lived within reach, to come in search of them very frequently.

We left Echelles early the next morning (our common hour of rising being five o'clock), and proceeded through a solitary road, winding at the feet of some desolate-looking mountains. Passing by several deep quarries of limestone, we soon arrived at the tremendous ascent, known under the very appropriate name of _Les Eschelles de Savoy_. Here we stopped at a lone hovel, to add a couple of oxen to our usual three horses; but these animals being at work at the plough, we were obliged to be satisfied with the assistance of another horse. A girl accordingly brought him out, helped to arrange the traces, &c, and ran by his side half way up the mountain, till we had attained the most arduous pass, and then returned with him to her cottage. She wore her hair gathered in a knot at the back of the head, in the true Italian style. As we toiled along, we observed a _paysanne_, with a load upon her head (most probably on her early way to some village market), stop to pay her morning devotions at a shrine of the Virgin, rudely carved in wood, and placed in a niche by the road-side. How shall I describe the wonderful manner in which we climbed these frightful eschelles? We seemed to be drawn up by our straining, labouring horses almost in a perpendicular direction, and at a foot's pace. On our left was a yawning chasm of immense magnitude, among a gloomy pile of frowning rocks, which might well be the abode of some ancient giant or geni; while further on, these same rocks, extending their mighty barriers on every side, seemed to hang tremulously over head, threatening to crush the hapless traveller, should sudden wind or storm arise to shake them from their precarious-looking base. The blue heaven above us was nearly shut from our sight by their dark and shadowy projections. Our guides (three or four in number, and resembling, in their wild, strange attire and features, a group of _Salvator Rosa_'s banditti) pointed out to us the ancient road, passable, even in its best days, by mules alone. It was a narrow ledge, with no defence whatever from the precipice on one side, winding in serpentine mazes through deep grottos, or chasms, in the bowels of the mountain. We saw a prodigious monument of Bonaparte's daring genius in a tunnel, which had been cut through the heart of these solid rocks, and beneath which a fine road was to have been made; but his career of power having been so suddenly and awfully checked, the work remains unfinished. After shuddering amid the sublimity of these scenes for some time, their rugged character gradually softened upon us, and the tender green of the fern, mingling richly with the tangled underwood, began to make its welcome appearance. Far above our heads, also, dark forests of lofty pine were occasionally visible, although the lower crags of overhanging rock generally hid them from our view. At length the prospect expanded into verdant pastures (where cows and goats were peacefully browsing), shaded by beech, elm, chestnut, and apple trees, and skirted by softly-swelling banks, covered with a rich and mossy vegetation. The blue smoke wreath, frequently rising above the tufted foliage, marked the vicinity of hamlets, and the little orchards and inclosed patches of well-cultivated garden ground (seen here and there), and the groups of women spinning at their cottage doors, gave the whole an indescribable air of pastoral comfort and beauty. In the midst of this serene enjoyment, my nerves were suddenly discomposed, by the fall of our postillion from his horse, who had stumbled, and now took the opportunity (during his short interval of emancipation) of looking in at the side window of the carriage; the last place certainly in which I either wished or expected to have seen him. However, no harm ensued, and we again proceeded quietly on our way. We could not but remark the extraordinary luxuriance of the hedges here, rich in nut trees, brilliant scarlet berries, convolvulus, blue bells, and other wild plants. The master of the post-house in the midst of these mountains seemed a great admirer of the magnificent genius of Napoleon, and said (speaking of the tunnel we had lately passed), _que cet homme la avoit bravè la nature_: he added, "that if he had reigned only two years longer, he would have completed this grand undertaking; but now all was at an end; for the king of Sardinia was not the sort of person to carry on the daring plans of his great predecessor." The manner in which this man described Bonaparte to have first conceived and determined upon the work in question was strongly characteristic of the decision peculiar to the latter. He was passing through the ancient horrible road, with his engineer, stopped, and pointing to the mountains, said, "Is it not possible to cut a tunnel through the entrails of yonder rock, and to form a more safe and commodious route beneath it?"--"It is _possible_, certainly, sire," replied the scientific companion. "Then let it be done, and immediately," rejoined the emperor.

I was romantic enough to mourn over the fate of the mountain stream here, which (in common with many others we had seen) was so weakened by long drought, that it had scarcely force sufficient to pour its scanty waters over their rugged channel, and seemed to vent its complaint in weak murmurs, as it flowed feebly along. The grand cascade, which feeds its urn so nobly during winter, had now lost all strength and magnificence of character. We felt the air very sharp, even in this sultry season; and in the bleak months of the year I can easily conceive that the severity of the cold must be intolerable. The grapes in such regions are always small and sour; they were not half ripe at the present time, and, indeed, never arrive at any perfection.

We breakfasted at _La Poste_ at Chamberry, a picturesque town, and capital of Savoy, situated in the bosom of the fine scenery I have just described. The tops of its surrounding mountains (which form part of the endless chain of Alps) are hoary with eternal snows: they had a very striking effect. It was at Chamberry that that strange, inconsistent, wonderful creature, Rousseau, lived for some time with Madame de Varennes: his house is still shewn. The charm which, while he lived, he contrived to throw around the vices and frailties of his character, and the productions of his bewitching pen, is now broken, the spell is dissolved; but there are, nevertheless, immortal excellencies in many parts of his writings which must make their due and deep impression upon the hearts and imaginations of every successive reader, till time itself shall be no more.

To return to Chamberry. There is no peculiarity of costume here, except that the _paysannes_ all wear gold hearts and crosses; the poorer classes of silver, lead, or mixed metal. We changed horses at Montmeillant, and saw the fine river Isere, formed by the melting of the snows. The same sort of grand scenery continued. There were several charming _campagnes_ (or gentlemen's houses) amid the mountains, half concealed by luxuriant woods. We longed to be invited (and able to accept such invitation) to spend a fortnight at one or other of them, in tranquillity and ease, in the society of agreeable, sensible people, who would sometimes allow us leisure to indulge in the luxury of solitude, and our own thoughts; for, without this latter privilege, one might just as well be in a fashionable drawing-room, in all the sophistication of Paris or London. It is among these scenes that Marmontel has chosen to place his heroine in the graceful little tale of the "Shepherdess of the Alps." But, alas! the poorer inhabitants of these fairy regions! how unworthy of such lovely Arcadian retreats! Almost all we met were squalid, filthy, listless, and indolent: a blighted, blasted, wretched race, hardly deserving the name of human. Most of them were (in addition to their universal hideousness) afflicted with the disgusting disease of _goîtres_, to say nothing of total idiotcy, which is equally common amongst them. Leaving Marmontel's lovely fanciful creations in the clouds, from whence they came, these, these we found to be the "dull realities of life;" and such realities!--my imagination actually sickened at their idea. I will not hazard farther detail, lest I should equally shock the feelings of my readers.

The mountains, as we approached Aiguebelle, became yet more lofty and stupendous than any we had before seen; but they continued to wear the same features of luxuriant beauty, even in the midst of the sublimity of a grander scale of proportion. From their airy summits we could now and then descry the fall of a narrow perpendicular streamlet, sparkling in the sun like a line of melted silver. We reached Aiguebelle at four o'clock, dined, and slept. The entrance to the inn was like that of a cow-house, or large old rustic stable, and the accommodations within were uncomfortable enough: not worse, however, than many which we afterwards encountered in various places on the continent. An evening walk, which we took here after tea, at the foot of the Alps, I shall never forget; romantic, beautiful, and wild beyond even the dreams of a poetical imagination. Passing through enormous masses of rock, consisting of argillaceous slate, called _schist_, in the foreground (at the entrance of a shadowy glade), we gradually ascended a winding path, by which we traced an opening through the richly-wooded recesses of one of the nearer mountains. Thick shady bowers of walnut trees (the largest our eyes had ever beheld) formed an agreeable sort of twilight, shedding a flickering gloom around, that well accorded with the pensive tone of our minds, as we stole silently along, wrapt in unfeigned and warm admiration of Nature and her wonderful creations, while a rippling spring, murmuring softly amid the mossy grass, assisted the dreamy sort of reverie that hung like a spell upon us! A fair green meadow lay smiling at our feet; where notwithstanding the burning heat of the season, the cattle were feeding on as rich a pasturage, as that which skirts the Thames at Richmond. Far above (towering over our heads) were the snowy peaks of the highest Alps, half veiled in clouds of floating mist. I sat down upon a mossy stone, my companions stretched on the turf beside me; the silent, deep, and soothing tranquillity was broken only by the chirp of the cricket, the distant bark of a cottage cur, or the whirring flight of the bats who now were beginning their evening pastimes; one of them, in his airy wheel, almost brushed Mr. W.'s face with his wings, as he flew fearlessly past. As the night advanced, we were struck by the beautiful effect of the blazing weeds, which were burning on some of the surrounding heights. At length we unwillingly bade adieu to the enchanting spot, and returned to our inn.

We left Aiguebelle the next morning, rising at four o'clock, and proceeded to St. Jean de Maurienne, through a narrow valley, inclosed by a chain of the same mountains, which rose to the height of about two or three thousand metres. A river, formed of melted snows, ran constantly by our side, now brawling and foaming over the rugged stones, now stealing silently along, in an almost imperceptible current, and often seeming wholly exhausted, forming merely a narrow runnel in the middle of its vast, sandy, rocky channel. Cottages were frequently dotted about here, some of them perched at such an incredible height, and apparently so inaccessible to human foot, that we could hardly conceive them to be the habitations of our fellow creatures! How the inmates continue to procure the necessaries of life from the adjacent hamlets in the valleys below, I cannot imagine, unless they are drawn up and down by ropes, in the manner which is so awfully described, in his "scene on the sands," by that bold painter from nature, the author of "the Antiquary." The singular and beautiful appearance of the opposite rocks told us the moment when the sun had risen to a certain height, but the first burst of glory from that divine orb, it was not our lot to witness, as the east was hid from our sight by the overwhelming mountains that surrounded us. I confess I was disappointed at this circumstance, as the idea of beholding a perfect sun-rise had been the chief inducement to me to quit my warm bed at such a preposterously early hour, and to undergo with cheerfulness the disagreeable ceremony of hurrying on my clothes by candlelight! However, I was in some measure consoled by the lovely effect of the partial gleams, which played occasionally upon the distant objects; finely contrasting with the gloomy shadows of the dark ravines, and lighting up the spots of verdure upon which they brightly fell, they seemed almost kindling into a blaze of unearthly splendour. We passed here a small but romantic fall of water; and soon afterwards encountered (in one of those narrow passes so frequent among the Alps), and upon the brow of an abrupt descent, a waggon, drawn by restive mules. These animals flew about the road in every possible direction, rearing till they stood on end, kicking and plunging in the most astonishing manner. The driver emulated their fury, and I know not which of the parties was in the right, they were all in such a passion together; we expected every instant to see their heels dash against the glass of our windows, but our postillion managed with so much skill and discretion, that we soon found ourselves safely _hors de l'embarras_. We were somewhat surprised at his admirable coolness and dexterity, as he was no experienced old stager, but on the contrary a mere boy. Solomon, however, justly observes that wisdom does not exclusively reside with white heads, as some veteran worthies have fondly flattered themselves, and this will account for the _sagesse_ of our little driver, which might otherwise have been discredited, perhaps, by those, who constantly associate the ideas of youth and imprudence. I believe that the same author goes so far as to assert, that "wisdom giveth hoary hairs." I am not quite certain as to the accuracy of my quotation, or I should at once feel sure that I had discovered the reason why so many of our beaux and belles evince such a horror of mental attainments. Talking of beaux and belles, we were now quite among their antipodes; for never did I behold such a set of dirty, slovenly, squalid, frightful creatures, as were perpetually crossing our path!--I can only say, that (like Sancho Panza and his goblins) having once seen two or three of them, I shut my eyes for the rest of the journey, although I could not stop my ears against the horrid guttural idiotical croak (resembling that of a choked raven) which they constantly maintained, as they ran begging by the side of the carriage. Mr. B. hoping to get rid of them, often threw out money from the windows, but this only attracted a larger flock, and we soon found our sole refuge was in pulling up the blinds the moment they appeared in sight.

We breakfasted at St. Jean de Maurienne, situated at the base of the higher Alps: it was dirty, as all the inns in Savoy are; and they gave us sour bread and butter, and muddled coffee, rather a mortification to travellers, who (however romantic and enthusiastic) could not help feeling that they should have better relished better fare, after having gone three and twenty miles before breakfast! We met an Italian lady here, just come from Turin; who assured us, upon our expressing our admiration of Savoy, that we should think the scenery of Italy far more beautiful: I could not at the moment believe in the possibility of her assertion, and felt a presentiment that after having seen and compared some of the most striking features in these countries, I should not coincide with her in opinion; Italy (from all I had heard on the subject) possessing a different character of beauty; but difference does not constitute superiority: I should as soon think of comparing an apple and an orange--both are good in their way. If any body takes offence at the lowliness of my simile, I beg leave to refer him or her to that delightful writer (at all times, and upon such various subjects), Marmontel, who avails himself of the very same, and applies it in the still prouder instance of human intellect.

The river Arque rushes impetuously through this part of Savoy; we passed by a _voiture_ overturned upon its stony banks, the wheels in the air, and front nearly touching the brink of the foaming torrent. The accident did not seem to be a very recent one, as no people were assembled about or near it. The Savoyards (those who are happily free from _goîtres_, &c.) are seldom brought up to any other trade than stone masonry; wandering about, following this _metier_ in an itinerant manner. Many of the rustics appear well acquainted with the scientific terms of mineralogy and chemistry. We conversed with a common cottager in particular, who discoursed most intelligently upon the different substances of which these mountains are composed. We suffered a good deal of inconvenience from the dust, which flew here in such overwhelming eddies, that it completely filled the carriage, and more than once impeded my respiration most painfully. I could feel it gritting between my teeth, and irritating the windpipe; and when we attempted to close the windows against it, the heat thereby increased became equally insupportable; the sun in these regions being so fierce that it absolutely burnt us when we drew up the blinds: still, the peculiar sensation of _weight_ in the atmosphere, from which we experience so much oppression in England, seemed to be unknown in this climate; there was an elasticity in the air, superior to any of which we foggy islanders can boast, and the sky was perfectly Italian, of a deep blue cloudless ether.

At St. Michel, a neat village (comparatively speaking), the peasantry become more human; the _goître_ begins to disappear, and the countenance to assume a more intellectual expression. Again the sublime effect of the river Arque attracted our attention. It is a regular mountain torrent, flashing and raving over tremendous rocks, with a rapidity and fury difficult to describe. If it was thus mighty during the present parching season, what must it not be in winter! The imagination shudders at the idea of its desolating force. I could scarcely trace the affinity of this element with the tame, slow, glassy, silent waters to which I had been accustomed in my own country. It was like the sublime insanity of a superb human genius, when compared with the almost vegetable existence of a mere common plodding mortal.

The little narrow alpine bridges, occasionally thrown across this terrific stream, were highly romantic and beautiful. At this particular spot, dark forests of pine began to succeed to the more pleasing verdure of the tufted beech. They extended to the remotest pinnacles of the mountains, from whose brown sides, lower down, a number of sparkling springs were seen to gush dancing and flashing in the sun. Great quantities of barberry trees, and of the plant coltsfoot, were growing wild here.