Chapter 16

June 4.--From Tende to Limone 15 miles. We left Tende at a quarter before four: after twisting and re-twisting for about an hour and a half among narrow defiles, through which the first part of the rise is gradually conducted, we reached a mountain valley at a high level above the sea, closed at the opposite end by the main ridge of the Col di Tende. Here the chief ascent commences, in a regular zigzag up a jutting shoulder of the mountain. The road is wide and good, and free from ravine or precipice; but from its continual turns, (of which I counted not less than sixty-five) is difficult and embarrassing to any but a crane-necked carriage; though in no place could an overturn produce worse consequence than a roll of a few yards. The distance may be abridged on foot, either by crossing the zig-zags, or by taking the summer path to the right through a fine range of Alpine pasture, which exhibits a profusion of hardy flowers growing up to the edge of the snow-drifts: amongst many others, whose names were unknown to us, we observed blue and yellow crocusses, hearts-ease, oxlips, cowslips, primroses, and two sorts of gentianella. In this direction the road cannot be missed to the turf cabaret which stands on the sharp edge of the mountain. It is curious to look back a moment from this elevated spot down the narrow valley behind you, and observe the road curling from below your feet into blue distance, like the coils of an immeasurable white snake.

At this fine season of the year, it exhibits a busy scene of passengers and loaded strings of mules, toiling up in your rear, or lessening in the perspective till hardly visible at the bottom of the ascent. The site of the cabaret borders on the line of perpetual snow, and though inferior in height to the crest of the Simplon road, stands in a situation, I should conceive, much more exposed to the effects of sudden hurricanes and snow storms. The road appears to be commanded by no spot where avalanches could accumulate, as on the precipice where you first overlook Brieg, and must, therefore, during the winter, be rather difficult than dangerous. On the other hand, no mountains intervene on the Turin side, to blunt the edge of the north winds from the Savoy Alps; and in the direction of Nice, the south-west winds must be concentrated and driven up the mountain avenue of Tende with the roar of artillery. I can, therefore, easily credit Beaumont's account, that many mules are annually lost in consequence of the tempestuous weather on the Col. We did not, however, taste any of the mule-hams at the cabaret, which, according to that writer, are afforded to the frugal natives by these casualties, but contented ourselves with a spoonful of brandy, and a taste of their good brown bread. Had our stomachs been desperate, other refreshments, I believe, were to be had.

The view to the north from this "raw and gusty" ridge affords a more striking idea of height and space combined, than any other prospect with which I am acquainted; though not on the whole so imposing as the first glimpse of the Swiss side of the Simplon. The eye is carried directly over two or three lower peaks of the Col, grinning with snow drifts, to the great range of Alps south-west of Mont Cenis, which appear hanging in mid air like the domains of a cloud-king; their jagged and glittering tops distinctly defined, but their bases melting into the hazy abyss which the plain of Piedmont presents.

As far as I can estimate, we were about five hours in performing the ascent from Tende. Two more hours took us to Limone, at a jog trot, down a zigzag road, less abrupt in its turns than that on the other side. At Limone the post-road to Turin begins. The post-house is a tolerably good inn: the douaniers, the most troublesome we had yet met with, refusing to compound for the customary donation, and asking for money when their search was ended. We had, therefore, the sweet revenge of first watching them as pick-pockets, and next refusing them as beggars.

To Coni fifteen miles; the first seven or eight through a beautiful valley fringed with chestnut woods; every thing, however, appeared diminutive, as our eyes had not yet recovered the strain which the enormous scenery of the Col had occasioned. In this fine open valley, goitres abound as much as near Sion; this malady, therefore, cannot be attributed, as some think, to the stagnation of air.

Coni, a neat arcaded town, deserves mention for the beauty of its situation, and the fine Alpine panorama which it commands. The glittering pinnacle of Monte Viso, is the most striking feature through this and the following day's journey.

June 5.--Breakfasted at Savigliano, a large flourishing town; slept at Carignan, and reached Turin to breakfast next day.

June 6.--The best of Turin is seen in the general survey of the town and its princely environs, particularly on the Moncaliere side. Our principal amusement was derived from Zuchelli's masterly performance at the Opera Buffa. The plot of the piece turned partly on the discomfitures and discontents of a supercilious English dandy, which part this singer performed with an immoveable countenance, which kept us in a roar of laughter, his grave rich toned bass voice giving a double effect to the solemn absurdity of the character. For the sake of avoiding open offence to our countrymen, the hero was styled a Danish count; but the portrait was perfect to the very tail of the coat, and could not be mistaken, and the countenances of some of his prototypes in the next box showed, that the satire, fair and gentlemanly as it was, cut deeper than the awkward puppet-show of "Les Anglaises pour rire." The Neapolitan character was handled more unmercifully in the part of a guttling, fulsome old coxcomb, as cowardly as the Dane was quarrelsome.

Milan, its inimitable cathedral, and its other curiosities, have, I am aware, been well-trodden ground for some years. No one, however, appears to notice the courier's little spaniel in the Archduke Rainier's hall, who has watched for his master's return from Russia more than a year without stirring from his mat, and whom the good-natured Viceroy feeds and protects without allowing him to be disturbed. I hope he will find a place in some future animal biography, for the credit of his species. As to the splendid Fete Dieu, which we just arrived in time to witness, with its military, civil, and ecclesiastical pageantry,--the beggar-boys plucking the guttering wax from the long tapers of the priests, and the priests occasionally singeing their noses in return, I could no more undertake to describe, than to sort a bag of gaudy feathers of different birds.

The best companion over the Simplon with which I am acquainted, is a little French tract, written, I think, by a M. Mallet, and touching slightly, but sufficiently, on all subjects of interest connected with that stupendous route. The short account which it gives of the life of Cardinal Borromeo may be read through while walking up the hill of Arona to visit his colossal statue, which deserves a higher rank than perhaps it holds, either as a work of art or an achievement of labour. The attitude of the figure is easy and graceful, and the artist has managed the flowing cardinal's robe with great taste. There is also an expression of benevolence and majesty in the countenance and extended hand, suitable to one's conceptions of this apostolic character, who seems looking and waving a blessing on his native Arona. The height of the figure and pedestal is stated at 104 feet; but the effect of its grace and proportion renders this difficult of belief, until you look back at the distance of two miles on the road to Baveno, and see it like a walking giant overtopping the neighbouring woods by more than the head and shoulders.

With this noble statue ends my admiration of Borromean taste: for it is not to be borne that the Isola Bella, which nature intended as a central finish to such a fairy land as the Lago Maggiore, should have been tortured into a piece of confectionary less elegant than the good taste of Gunter or Grange would have devised as the centre of a bowl of lemon cream. The Isola Madre, it is true, is beautiful; for no Italian landscape gardener has yet assailed it with his line and rule.

Our welcome into Switzerland was novel, but pleasing to lovers of animals. Several herds of cattle met us on our road to Brieg, accompanying their masters to the mountain chalets, and fairly beset us with their attentions. The cows crowded and shouldered each other to be scratched; one large goat; slipping under their legs, put her head under my arm, and took my hand in her mouth; and a whole flock of sheep turned round and ran after us in order to obtain more notice. I had no idea before that any animal but the dog might be tamed to such a degree of instinctive tact, as to perceive whether or not its caresses will be acceptable to a stranger; and I am convinced, that the celebrated Ritson might have made more converts to his Braminical system by importing and exhibiting a Swiss flock, than by writing a book against animal food, and classing eggs as a vegetable succedaneum.

It would be as superfluous to describe the well-known ground of Switzerland, as that of Cumberland; and indeed when once within sight of Geneva, one is almost at home. One and one only stage seems to remain, more desirable still.

"Cum peregrino, Labore fossi venimus larem ad nostram, Desideratoque acquiescimus lecto."

THE END.

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