nine or ten months of the year, surrounded by frost, snow, and ice. Though more elevated than France and Italy, they lose sight of the sun every day, two or three hours before we do. Yet, in certain parts of Mount Cenis, flowers and butterflies are seen in the midst of the snow, at all seasons. Patches of verdure appear here and there, surrounded by snow, and the lake which is in a hollow of the mountain, is frozen during only six months of the year. Those who wish to be acquainted with the natural history of Mount Cenis, should read the learned works of Saussure, Lalande, Bourrit, and others who have visited the Alps. As for me, I am satisfied with describing the cheerful or melancholy feelings which this journey of pleasure awakened in my mind, and to which reflexion sometimes gives a moral character.
The plain on the summit of Mount Cenis is about three quarters of a league in extent; Napoleon, when forming his gigantic schemes, intended to build here a town, and the triumphal arch, which he afterwards destined for the great army, when victory began to be inconstant to him. In 1809, Prince Borghese, Govenor-general of the departments beyond the Alps, came here, attended by all his court, to place the first stone of the immense barracks, which have been finished since. On the plain of Mount Cenis stands the hospital of the good fathers who have devoted their lives to the exercise of humanity and the duties of hospitality; they live contented in the contemplation of the happiness and satisfaction which they procure for others; they accept no remuneration from travellers, who are received by them with a kindness due to brothers; and, under the superintendence of their worthy superior, Don Dubois, they divide their time between study, the exercise of charity, and the practice of a religion free from fanaticism.
Having arrived at the extremity of the plain, we descended the southern side of the mountain. The north wind became by degrees less severe; we no longer sat motionless upon our saddles; we began to talk and sing.
We were involved by the clouds that were floating towards us, and afterwards saw them hovering around the icy summit of Mount Cenis, which apppeared above them, gilt by the rays of the setting sun.
It was soon hid in the darkness of night. There was no noise, except that made by our mules, and the roaring of the waters that fell in torrents down the steeps.
We saw moving lights in the distant valley which we were approaching, and felt somewhat alarmed as they came nearer to us, at a loss to conjecture what motive could induce any one to carry them among these gloomy defiles. We were told that the kind and hosbitable inhabitants of Novalése, for the reward of two or three francs came out every night with lanterns, to meet caravans, and even solitary travellers coming from Mount Cenis, and to light them on their way.
Attended by these good people, we arrived at Novalèse nearly in the same order that we had reached la Grand’-Croix. Our supper was cheered by the Montmelian wine, which has, perhaps, no more claim to the name given to it, than that which is offered by the restaurateurs of Paris, under the name of Beaune, has to the title bestowed upon it. We slept at Novalèse, a gloomy village of Piedmont, built in a narrow cleft, where we had nothing more to do than to eat our suppers and go to bed. The bread consisted of long narrow rolls, with a brittle crust, like that of gingerbread, and of a very agreeable flavour.[1] We were told that we should find bread of the same kind at Turin, and even beyond Alexandria; but different kinds of bread, adapted to all tastes, were placed on the table, both here and at la Grand’-Croix.
The next day, before we arrived at Suza, we were much struck by the appearance of the fort of la Brunette, situated on the top of an isolated mountain. This fort, which seems to be impregnable, was taken by storm by the French, an achievement of which the possibility can hardly be imagined. At length we entered Suza, the first little town of Piedmont, and situated half way up Mount Cenis. It is said that it was built by a Roman colony, established here, when Augustus opened a road into Dauphiné. This colony was, without doubt, fixed here for the purpose of trading with the people of Gaul, as the spot is by no means attractive. The town is ill built and irregular, and the pavement uneven. There are still to be seen here the remains of a triumphal arch, raised in honour of Augustus.
The distance from Suza to Turin is forty miles. After having traversed half of it, we found ourselves in a plain. The mildness of the air bespoke a warmer climate. We met peasant girls of Piedmont, dressed in short petticoats and round hats of felt adorned with black feathers. The elms were entwined with the branches of the vine; the road was bordered with rows of mulberry trees; and the mowers were cutting down the new grass in the green meadows.
We reached Rivoli, a country house belonging to the Kings of Sardinia, situated on a hill, or rather at the foot of Mount Cenis. This chateau resembles not, in its style of beauty, the palaces built in the neighbourhood of Paris. A broad and beautiful avenue, about eight miles in length, leads from Rivoli to Turin, down a gentle declivity. This road is thickly strewed with the stones that roll from the mountain on the right. The fertile plain on the left is watered by numerous canals, supplied by the waters of the Doire. This plain extends into Lombardy, as far as the Gulf of Venice. Full of the agreeable sensations, experienced on beholding a civilized country, we entered Turin by the gate of Suza, and the street of la Doire, which is, without exception, the finest street in Europe.
Liverpool. A. W.
(To be continued.)
THE DOG WITH TWO MASTERS.
[Original Translation from the German of Frederic Laun.]
Chapter 1st, in which Mr. Jeremiah Schnackenberger is introduced.—The sun was just setting, and people of delicate health had already betaken themselves to their respective residences, when the discordant horns from the watch-tower announced the arrival of a new guest. The windows were immediately filled with young and old, with plain and pretty faces, and a smile hovered upon them all, when the object of the general solicitude came distinctly within sight.
On a small fleshless white horse sat a tall, stout, and well-fed young man, in a pea-green surtout, which seemed to have been much exposed to sun and rain; the weather-beaten head of the horseman, which contrasted singularly with the delicate colour of his coat, was adorned with a cocked hat of such enormous size, that one of its points projected between the ears of the Rosinante, whilst the other covered the animal’s very modest tail: a pair of boots, which would have been too long for the horse itself, hung in a sloping direction on both sides, and were thickly covered with particles of the soil which they had grazed, whilst an immense pipe, of great value, was dangling in front, and sent forth clouds of smoke, which would have warranted the supposition that he was a travelling steam-engine. The whip seemed to have been taken merely for fashion’s sake, for the horse walked so leisurely, that even the most lazy children had full time to get out of the way; and the animal appeared as conscious as the rider, that it would be altogether unreasonable to require greater speed, under existing circumstances.
The long sword, which rattled on the pavement, gave the salutary hint, that it might be as well for the spectators not to interfere with the pleasure of Jeremiah Schnackenberger; and this warning was rendered still more effectual by a Danish bull-dog, of nearly the horse’s size, which marched very deliberately in the rear, exhibiting, now and then, two rows of teeth, which commanded universal respect for the joint travellers.
The crowds in the windows were scrutinized by the rider in his turn, and this review absorbed him to such a degree, that he had actually suffered his pipe to go out: but he became no sooner aware of the fact, than he took out his tinder-box to rekindle it, when his horse took advantage of the opportunity to turn into a lateral-street, and to proceed, as by instinct, to the inn of the Golden Sow. The gold on the sign was rather tarnished, and the whole appearance of the premises was not very inviting; but Jeremiah would not contradict his poor beast; and, after having in vain called for the ostler, he first entered the house, and then proceeded into the open travellers’ room.
Chapter 2d.—Of the accommodations in the Golden Sow.—A strolling troop of players had lately given a representation of Don Juan; and Mrs. Barbara Liquorice, the landlady, very naturally took our hero for the old commander, when she awoke out of her afternoon’s rest, which a little extra glass had prolonged beyond its usual extent. She felt greatly alarmed at the visit, and inquired into its object; but as she became aware that she had to deal with mere creatures of flesh and bone, she feared neither dog nor master, and expostulated with the latter in her accustomed manner, about the impropriety of his entering on horseback into a dwelling-room.
Jeremiah stated, very calmly, the absence of the domestic, and appeased the angry fair one so effectually, that she asked pardon for her rashness, and conducted the horse to the stable. The traveller made himself comfortable, and was much amused with the portraits of half-a-dozen fat pigs, which hung against the wall, together with their pedigree, and a short description of their lives, in order to show the landlord’s skill in the noble art of rearing and fattening their species. The silence and dullness which prevailed throughout the house, indicated, however, that it had ceased to be the scene of activity; and the returning hostess put the matter beyond doubt. She related, without being much pressed, that she had been left a widow in the very prime of life, and with rather more property than she could conveniently manage herself, having to contend against an envious and enterprizing neighbour at the Fox, who contrived to get all her customers, by bribing the postillions and others to injure her fair fame. She made it pretty well understood, that she did not think it likely an inn could ever thrive without a master; whilst, on the other hand, her’s would afford a fine opportunity to a young man of spirit, to make his way in the world. A few years more, on the female side, appeared to her rather an advantage, since it offered additional security of steadiness and fidelity to the husband.
Mr. Schnackenberger listened with a great deal of good-nature to this exposition, interrupting it merely now and then with an “Indeed!” but more frequently addressing Jupiter (his dog) who was consuming the supper which had been brought in, and for which his master showed no particular relish. The lady drew rather a favourable augury from the latter circumstance; and, after having conducted her guest to a bed-room, she left him to ruminate on what had been said.
Chapter 3d.—An improper visit.—Our weary traveller had been fast asleep, when he was almost lifted out of his bed by Jupiter, who started from under it with a most tremendous howl, to receive a man with a whip in his hand, whom the hostess introduced by means of a master-key, because he pretended to come on very urgent business. Jeremiah held the candle to the intruder’s countenance, and recognised him as the proprietor of the horse, who suspected him to have left the University for good, and to have hired the animal with the intention of taking it home with him. He had traced him all the way; and he insisted on immediate payment and satisfaction. A well-filled purse was forthwith produced; and the sight of it convinced the horse-dealer, at once, of his error. He now begged to be excused, and desired his much-honoured
- ↑ This bread is called gressini. Some of it was sent every week from Turin for Buonaparte.
