We left Milan on Tuesday, July the 11th, early in the morning of a very fine day, in the largest, and most elegant voiture which I had met with in France or Italy, having only two companions; one, a lady with her lap-dog, who, although she was not very young, was witty and amusing; the other, a singular character of a Frenchman, an ex-colonel of the army of Bonaparte, and who amused us by his eccentricities. He had fought in the battle of Waterloo, and afterwards, been deprived of his pension and half pay, as well as for a time banished the kingdom. He had received a variety of wounds in Egypt, and other parts of the world. My friend informed me that his appearance was shabby, although he talked of having a very rich wife at Lyons. According to his own account, he was at this time carrying on, in a large way, the business of a horse-dealer; and boasted of supplying various princes, and noblemen, with Arabian and other fine horses. Soon after leaving Milan, we passed a voiture, from the outside of which, a trunk had just been stolen. Fifteen miles from Milan, we crossed the Tesseno, which cost us eight centimes per head. This river takes its rise from Mount St. Gothard, and falls into the Po. Soon afterwards, we entered the Piedmontese states, and after the customary examinations, reached Novara for breakfast, having travelled thirty-five miles from Milan. Novara is an ancient city, but of no great note. After breakfast, we proceeded on our journey, and in the afternoon, crossed two small rivers, where they took a toll, not only for our carriage and horses, but ourselves also. About six o’clock, we arrived at Verceil, a very ancient city, with narrow, ill-paved streets, and a scanty population. A number of Austrian troops, who had occupied Piedmont in support of the royalist party, were quartered at this place, and sacrilegiously using the cathedral as stables. We understood that all the principal towns, with the exception of Turin itself, probably in consequence of a particular request, or as a point of delicacy, were at this time under the charge of the Austrians.
On the following morning, we breakfasted at St. Germano, and passed several rivers, with good modern bridges over them. Whenever we inquired how they came by such fine roads and bridges, the reply always attributed them to Bonaparte, so that if he had robbed their churches and monasteries, he had left them many a recompense; and they were willing to admit, that he usefully employed the poor in improving their country, and liberally patronized the arts.
Between seven and eight in the evening, we entered Turin, and in the morning directed our first attention to getting our passports properly arranged for our future journey; with this view we attended the police; and afterwards the Sardinian minister, where they demanded four francs from each of us for his signature. After this we walked about the town, where my friend expressed himself uncommonly pleased with the grandeur, beauty, and regularity of the buildings, streets, squares, and shops. The inhabitants generally addressed us in French, which gave us much the impression of a French town. After dinner we visited the queen’s villa, situated on the top of a hill, half a mile out of the town, in our way to which we crossed the Po (which has its source twenty-five miles above Turin, in the recesses of Monte Viso), over a magnificent bridge of five arches, built by the French, the approach to which was through a noble street, bearing the name of the river, with arcades on either side of it. The villa possesses a most commanding view of the city, river, and country around it, but contains nothing particularly good, except that the gardens are well laid out. After this we returned to the city, and promenaded the bank of the river, but were obliged to desist from extending our ramble by the coming on of a rainy evening. After breakfast the next day, we renewed our examination of the city, visiting the boulevards, and other parts, but were again compelled to return by the weather. On this account we took shelter in a caffé, where we observed in the papers, the first official account of the death of Napoleon, a rumour of which had reached us before we left Florence.
It continued raining the remainder of the day, and we employed ourselves in writing letters, and making preparations for our departure on the morrow, being obliged to forego visiting the churches, palaces, theatres, and other interesting objects of the place. It is true, we looked into two or three churches, but they seemed to possess nothing out of the ordinary way. The streets of Turin, particularly the new part, being laid out at right angles, makes it easy to traverse the town; we could not but notice the thinness of population, notwithstanding we knew the city was proportionally thickly inhabited—this was no doubt to be partly accounted for, from numbers having, during the summer season, retired to their country-seats, and partly to the late political occurrences, which have created a great distrust, and suspicion of those who remained, many of whom were at this time apprehensive of arrest and imprisonment, on account of their conduct or opinions, so that they were afraid to stir from out of their houses—nay, many had actually absconded on these accounts. But I do not profess to detail the political history of the countries I visited.
On Sunday, the 15th of July, we took our leave of Turin, with six new passengers in our voiture. We passed through Rivoli, which has a royal palace, to Ambrogia, where we breakfasted; we now entered defiles of mountains, the road becoming heavy; the rain, however, which had been before incessant through the morning, began to clear off, and we had a fine afternoon, which in some respects compensated for the badness of the roads. A new road from Turin to Susa, has lately been laid out by the Sardinian government, part of which we traversed, but found it at present very uncomfortable, consisting of a mere bed of stones. We reached Susa, about seven o’clock, an ancient town, situated amidst rocky eminences, on the banks of the Dura, here a small stream, but before it reaches Turin, increased into a considerable river.
The town of Susa is more respectable than we had expected to find it, but thinly inhabited, as notwithstanding it was a fine Sunday’s evening, very few people were walking about. My friend remarked, both here and in the places we had passed through this day, that the men were of diminutive stature, and ludicrously dressed, wearing cocked-hats, very long tails, and black breeches, and frequently without either shoes or stockings.
In the morning we set out from Susa at three o’clock, with the voiture drawn by five mules, our driver reserving his horses until we had ascended Mount Cenis. Soon after leaving Susa, we travelled over an alternation of moderate acclivity and level ground, until we passed Novalese, when the road became steep, notwithstanding it was sound and good, and occasionally took a winding direction to diminish the labour of ascent. About half-way up, we passed a miserable village, named Ferrieres. At this point we rested a while, that my friend might contemplate the stupendous and sublime scenery, amidst which we had been for some time making our progress.
From hence to the summit, we observed several detached habitations at short distances from each other, intended for the residences of the people stationed here by government, to keep open the road during the winter, by clearing away the falls of snow, and rocks which might shelve down from the surrounding mountains; or to give shelter to the way-worn or benighted traveller. These men are thought to be well paid, receiving three francs a day, but they fully deserve it, for their situation is, in my opinion, most unenviable.
My friend observed a gallery cut out of the solid rock, which had formerly been used as a road, but which from apprehension of danger in that direction, had fallen into disuse.
At the top of this mountain is situated a plain termed San Nicolo, a stone terminus placed on which, by its inscription, informs the traveller that he is now quitting Italy, and entering Savoy. Then farewell Italy! we exclaimed;—but I shall leave to the reader’s imagination, the feelings with which we quitted this highly favoured country; nor shall I, for good reasons, attempt to depict the magnificent scene which is to be witnessed from this commanding elevation of six thousand feet above the level of the sea, over the beautiful plains of Piedmont in the distance, with the sublime Alpine features, which were extended around us, and beneath our feet; but in lieu of this, I shall beg leave to introduce the spirited description of Lord Byron, in his translation of Dante’s prophecy.
We found the air on Mount Cenis particularly keen, and it failed not to produce a corresponding effect upon our appetites, nor was this to be wondered at, as we had now been travelling seven hours without breakfast. Our driver was, however, quite unwilling to indulge us with a quarter of an hour for the purpose of quieting these sensations; nor did we carry the point, until we insisted upon it peremptorily. After all, we could only get a hasty repast of tea and bread and butter; whereas we were strongly tempted by some beautiful trout, which had just arrived from out of a neighbouring lake of considerable size and unfathomable depth, situated in the centre of the plain.
The plain of San Nicolo is about six miles in length, and four broad; and notwithstanding its great elevation, was at this time free from snow, and covered with flowers and verdure. It is encompassed on all sides by the Alpine ridges, the highest of which rises three thousand feet still above it, and is clothed with eternal snow. It was from the top of this plain that Hannibal is said to have pointed out the rich fields of Italy to his wearied army.
At the distance of about a mile from the inn where we had taken refreshment, we arrived at a fort, within the walls of which stands the convent of Saint Bernard. We were detained here to have our passports examined. On the plain a considerable quantity of stone was lying on the road side, which was white as snow; my companions fancied it marble; it felt, however, to me of closer texture, and both heavier and harder than any marble I had ever met with; I carried off a piece, as a specimen, which proves to be a peculiarly hard sulphate of lime.
At length we began to descend the north side of the mountain, and at the foot of it entered the town of Lanslebourg, where we had our regular breakfast. At this place our party were imposed upon by an old woman, who pretended to be a hundred and seven years of age, and which she professed to prove by a certificate of her grandmother’s baptism, which she passed off as her own; before we left, our landlady exposed the imposition, informing us, that she obtrudes this certificate upon all travellers who pass that way.
The road, this afternoon, was hilly, narrow, and rough; we made, however, only a short stage, stopping to sleep at Modane. The inn at this place was full of Sardinian troops, on which account we took the precaution to have our baggage removed into our bed-rooms, for my friend C— had the cord whipped from off his trunk before he could look around him. We found a peculiar difficulty in explaining our wishes to have this arrangement effected, to the female who waited upon us; my friend, who was a very superior linguist, essayed in vain to make her comprehend our intentions, until at length we discovered that she was both deaf and dumb; she possessed, however, extraordinary acuteness, and could be made to understand almost any thing by signs; she afterwards waited upon us well at supper, and in conveying our luggage to the coach on the following morning.
We breakfasted the next day at St. Jean de Maurienne, a small town, with narrow streets, situated in the middle of the Alps. On our way from hence to Aigue Bella, where we rested for the night, we passed an unfinished fort, which his Sardinian majesty is by treaty compelled to erect at this spot.
Wednesday the 18th was a fine warm day. We breakfasted at Montmelian, famous for its wines, both white and red, and particularly the latter.
Since descending Mount Cenis, the roads have been very indifferent, but the country highly romantic; to-day we passed a number of waterfalls, and repeatedly crossed the river R—; at half after one we arrived at Chambery, the capital of Savoy, where we dined, and staid all night. This town is delightfully situated, and has many pleasant walks about it; the streets are, however, narrow, and the pavements bad. We were informed that it abounded with the necessaries of life, which were to be purchased at a reasonable rate. The whole of our journey from Mount Cenis had impressed us with the feeling of being in France, as we heard nothing but that language, and the patois of the country.
Our companions from Turin all quitted us at Chambery; but in the morning we took up two young gentlemen from Lyons, who were going to the baths of Aix; one of them, however, when we had proceeded five miles, found out that he had left his portmanteau behind him at Chambery, and returned to look after it.
We arrived at Aix les Baignes for breakfast, after which we took a cursory view of the town and baths, which were built by the Emperor Gratian, and with both of which we were much pleased. I attempted in vain, to ascertain the nature of the waters; they referred me to a book-seller, who shewed me a treatise in praise of their virtues, but all the information I could gain respecting the point in question, was, that they contained sulphur; which we had previously detected by the test of our noses.
After leaving Aix, we proceeded to Ramilly; about midway between these places is a waterfall on the right, but at a distance from the road, which is visited by most of the strangers who take the waters at Aix.
In the evening we reached Frangy, where, notwithstanding we had travelled by ourselves in the voiture, we were not without a supper party, for we were favoured with the company of no less than four vitturenos. They were so far pleasant company, that they treated us with respect, and amused us with their conversation respecting the number of their passengers, fares, &c.
On Friday, the 20th of July, we set off in great spirits, in the prospect of reaching Geneva for breakfast; soon after leaving Frangy, which lies in a deep galley, we began to ascend a steep mountain, the top of which, it took us four hours to arrive at; this accomplished, we descended again, and shortly afterwards entered Switzerland, that country—
At eleven o’clock we made our entry into the city of Geneva.