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September 22nd (search for this): chapter 7
s M. de Bonstetten told me to observe, there was nothing in what M. Huber said which would remind us of his blindness. When we came away he gave me some engravings of horses which he had made in his youth, and which were singular because the animals were represented in unwonted positions. We stayed until after dark, and then M. de Bonstetten took me to his own house, where I sat with him till a late hour, talking of his early life in Berne and his acquaintance with Gray. Journal. September 22.—I left the city of Calvin, Bonnet, Rousseau, and Mad. de Stael this morning at eight o'clock, with my friend Brooks, who makes with me the tour of Italy in a post-chaise. Our route was the famous Route of the Simplon, which conducted us once more to the beautiful banks of the lake. When I came to Geneva, it was on the Swiss side, with the solemn mountains of Savoy for my prospect; in leaving it my eye was delighted with the grace, and beauty, and luxuriance of the Pays de Vaud. . . . .
September 24th (search for this): chapter 7
ms gild the mountains and disperse the mists about us. We sailed up the Valais side, covered with solemn groves of chestnuts, and came to the entrance of the Rhone, whose furious and turbid waters induced the ancients to think it rushed out from the secret recesses of the earth and the realms of eternal night. After tracing the scenes described by Rousseau, and going over the Castle of Chillon, we crossed the lake to St. Gingoulph, and took horses in sad earnest to leave it. . . . . September 24.—As it is our intention to go up the St. Bernard, and as the weather is not good, we have spent the whole day at Martigny. This has given me a little opportunity of seeing something of the Valais. September 26.—We have had two superb days to go to the top of St. Bernard. Yesterday morning we set out at seven o'clock on mules, with a guide, but our much surer guide was the Dranse, a little stream rising from the summit of the mountain near the convent and falling into the Rhone near M
September 26th (search for this): chapter 7
nts to think it rushed out from the secret recesses of the earth and the realms of eternal night. After tracing the scenes described by Rousseau, and going over the Castle of Chillon, we crossed the lake to St. Gingoulph, and took horses in sad earnest to leave it. . . . . September 24.—As it is our intention to go up the St. Bernard, and as the weather is not good, we have spent the whole day at Martigny. This has given me a little opportunity of seeing something of the Valais. September 26.—We have had two superb days to go to the top of St. Bernard. Yesterday morning we set out at seven o'clock on mules, with a guide, but our much surer guide was the Dranse, a little stream rising from the summit of the mountain near the convent and falling into the Rhone near Martigny. The road was very interesting. On one side it is overhung by rude and menacing rocks; on the other it sinks into precipices which the imagination hardly dares to measure . . . . . One league before reach
September 27th (search for this): chapter 7
impressed with the benevolent utility of this remarkable institution, and the still more remarkable exertions and sacrifices of the Augustine monks who conduct it. Last year ten of the monks and two servants were overwhelmed by an avalanche, while guiding some travellers to the hospice, and all perished. As we descended the mountain we went a little out of our way to see a bridge and an avalanche which exactly corresponded to the description of one in Strabo.— Note by Mr. Ticknor. September 27.—Between Brigg and Domo d'ossola, we have today crossed the Alps by the Simplon,—a most astonishing proof of the power of man . . . . It is impossible to give any idea of this magnificent work, which, for twenty miles together, is as perfect as a gentleman's avenue; of the difficulties the engineers were obliged to encounter, which, even after success, seem insuperable; or the terrors of the scenery, which reminded me of some of the awful descriptions in Dante's Inferno . . . . . We were <
September 29th (search for this): chapter 7
by the Simplon,—a most astonishing proof of the power of man . . . . It is impossible to give any idea of this magnificent work, which, for twenty miles together, is as perfect as a gentleman's avenue; of the difficulties the engineers were obliged to encounter, which, even after success, seem insuperable; or the terrors of the scenery, which reminded me of some of the awful descriptions in Dante's Inferno . . . . . We were eight hours in ascending, and four and a half in the descent. September 29.—On going a little about Domo d'ossola this morning,—which is a neat little town,—I found that not only the climate, but the architecture, had changed. While coming down the mountains, I observed the refuges built on their sides, to serve as a shelter to travellers, were more appropriate in their forms and ornaments than the same buildings on the other side; but I attributed it to accident. Now, however, I see that it is the influence of the Roman arts and their remains, felt even to t
October 1st (search for this): chapter 7
the days of Horace, and passes from tree to tree in graceful festoons as when Milton crossed the same plains a hundred and fifty years ago. If, amidst these more classical fields, I saw for the first time in Europe the cultivation of Indian corn, the recollections it awakened of homely happiness were not discordant from the feelings with which they were associated, and I can truly say that I have seen few things since I left that home which have given me more heartfelt pleasure. Milan, October 1.—We again commenced our journey early this morning, and when the sun rose found ourselves for the first time in the rich plains of Lombardy, where no mountains bounded the horizon . . . .We were still accompanied by the mirth and frolics of the vintage till, after passing through a great number of villages, we entered Milan. . . . . In the evening I presented my letters to the Marquis, or Abbate, de Breme, a man of talents and learning, and son of one of the richest noblemen in Italy, w
October 7th (search for this): chapter 7
nverses remarkably well, with taste and wit. He was formerly grand almoner to the court,—a place, I suspect, to which his religion did not promote him; and, though he seems to have been no friend to the French usurpation, he abhors Austria, and has refused all offers to come into the government. He carried me immediately to his box in the great theatre Della Scala; for here everybody goes every evening to the play, and what society there is . . . . is at this great exchange and lounge. October 7.—The Marquis de Breme, whose kindness has been such that he has hardly left me an unoccupied hour since I have been in the city, proposed to me last evening, if I would stay to-day, to show me some curious things in the environs, that strangers are not generally permitted to see. This morning, therefore, we set off with a little party he had collected, consisting of Count Confalonieri, The name of this accomplished young nobleman afterwards became widely known, and acquired a melancholy
October 9th (search for this): chapter 7
man afterwards became widely known, and acquired a melancholy interest from his long imprisonment in the fortress of Spielberg. a young man of much culture, who has travelled Europe quite over; Borgieri, one of a few literary hopes of Italy, who, as well as Confalonieri, has often been with us in our excursions before; and a Russian general. . . . . The whole drive was about thirty-five miles; we reached Milan at eight o'clock, and we all dined very happily with the Marquis. Placentia, October 9.—While waiting for our supper last night, —which we were obliged to wait for a long time, as the heir apparent of the throne of Sardinia lodged at the same inn,—I amused myself with looking out, in the two great Roman historians, all the notices I could find of this little city. They were not very interesting, but somewhat curious. It was founded by a Roman colony, about A. U. 534, and seems to have been so well built and fortified-probably because it was a frontier town—as to serve for
October 15th (search for this): chapter 7
a Roman colony, about A. U. 534, and seems to have been so well built and fortified-probably because it was a frontier town—as to serve for shelter to the Romans, etc., etc. In this manner Mr. Ticknor occupied himself in each city as he advanced, giving many curious facts. Few travellers in these days care for such details and this kind of knowledge, and those who do find enough of them in their guide-books. These proofs of faithful search for knowledge are, therefore, not given. October 15.—Early this morning, and still with the finest weather, we continued our journey . . . . At length we arrived at Fusina, and saw the Queen of the Adriatic, with her attendant isles, rising like an exhalation from the unruffled bosom of the deep. It was a beautiful spectacle, perfectly singular in its kind, and indescribable, and was so much the more touching to my feelings, as I now first saw the ocean after an exile from it of above two years. . . . . The approach to Venice is strikin
October 16th (search for this): chapter 7
just sinking into the deep waters. But on entering it, feelings very different take possession of you. You have left behind you the traces of vegetation; the animal creation seems to have forsaken you; you are in the midst of a great city, without its accustomed bustle and animation . . . . . Everything is strange, and everything seems uncertain; the very passage-ways are dark and narrow, and the massy architecture of the houses, ending in the water, seems to have no foundation . . . . October 16.—Over its [St. Mark's] pronaon stand the four famous bronze horses, which must always be numbered among the finest remains of antiquity. Their early history is uncertain, and has lately been disputed with much warmth, and with a waste of obscure learning, by Count Cicognara, President of the Academy of Venice, Schlegel, Mustoxidis, a native of Corcyra and a member of the French Institute, and Dandolo, a young Venetian patrician of talent and acuteness. Six pamphlets have been published,
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