On the 18th of June I rode in a soaking rain from Turin to Susa, a city surrounded on three sides by snow-topped mountains. I spent some time at the Arch, which is a fine, but simple building of white marble. The upper part is destroyed, but enough of the Attic remains to exhibit the inscription. On the upper course, in a single line, are the following letters, which remain very perfect: Imp. Caesari Augusto divi f. pontifici maximo tribunic. potestate xx Imp. xiii.
The second course seems to have contained three lines of inscription, but the upper is so nearly destroyed, as to suggest the idea that the line above it must have been restored; the part most exposed could hardly have remained perfect while that below it suffered so much. Many letters of the third line, (the middle line of the second course of stones,) are distinguishable, but I could not make out the words reported by Millin. The general proportions are not unpleasing, but it is rather singular that the columns are set on a pedestal which raises them considerably above the pilasters of the arch; this diminishes their size and apparent importance. The details of the entablature are in bad taste, and the frieze is ornamented with a bas-relief of men and monsters rudely executed.
A.B. Clayton, del. from Sketches by J. Woods.
Arch of Augustus at Susa.
London. Published by J & A Arch. Cornhill, March 1st. 1828.
On the 19th, I walked up to the Madonna del Coà, which Sr. Balbis had recommended me to visit for the botany, and was much gratified in that respect; the rock is a decomposing mica-slate, a sort of soil which is almost always very productive.
I left Susa on the 20th, and ascended Mount Cenis on foot. The scenes are on a grand scale, but have not much variety, and we gain little as we ascend but the prospect of a more extended waste of snow. I had however a very pleasant walk, and was amused all the way, both by the scenery and the plants. The road, nearly in its highest part, passes over a comparative plain about six miles in length, with a lake in the middle. Towards the Italian end of this plain there is a little village, which has a better title than Myrrem, near Lauterbrunnen, to be considered the highest in Europe. This plain has three outlets: one towards Lanslebourg, one towards Briançon, and one towards Susa; but the water is all discharged by the last.
I staid one day on Mount Cenis to botanize, walking up to the snow, first on one side of the valley, and then on the other. I thought myself very successful; but I was too early for some of the greatest rarities, as the more level parts of the higher elevations were still covered with snow. Remains of last year’s snow existed even below the level of the inn. You see nothing of the plains of Italy from the top, and must even descend for a considerable distance before you can catch the hills about Turin through the long perspective of the valley of Susa. The highest part of the pass over Mount Cenis is 2,057 feet above Lanslebourg; 6,887 above the sea. Roche Melun, which according to Millin is the highest point in the neighbourhood, is 11,240 feet above the sea. On the 22nd, I resumed my walk on the long descent down to Lanslebourg. The woods abounded in plants which would delight an English botanist. Not feeling at all fatigued, I continued my route on foot to Verney; but there is little interest in this part of the walk, and this induced me to procure there a sort of cart with a suspended seat, in which I rode to Modana. The river here runs very deep among the rocks, and a little stream which falls into it makes two magnificent cascades one after the other. It would be better to ride from Lanslebourg to Verney, and to walk from thence to Modana. At the latter place I slept, and setting off again at four the following morning, walked to St. Michel, which is seated in a beautiful little circular plain, environed by remarkably rude and craggy mountains. A bare rock, which seems to close the valley, the spur of a tremendously rugged mountain called La Bonne, is a particularly striking object. Hereabouts vineyards begin to make their appearance, the country above being too cold for them. Lanslebourg is 4,830 feet above the sea; St. Michel, perhaps 1,600. From St. Michel, I went in a char à banc to La Chambre; thence I walked to La Chapelle, intending to procure a horse or carriage to convey me to Aiguebelle, but being disappointed, and the inn having a very forlorn appearance, I proceeded on foot. At Aiguebelle I found a vetturino, who had offered me a place at Modana the evening before, and agreed to accompany him the next day to Chamberi. The day’s journey had been mostly through pleasant valleys, well shaded and well cultivated, watered by the impetuous Are, a branch of the Isere, and confined frequently within very narrow limits by abrupt and lofty mountains. Towards Aiguebelle the river makes extensive marshes. After leaving Aiguebelle we enter the valley of the Isere. Towards Chamberi the country becomes more open, and the road lies among gravelly hills cultivated with corn, and shaded with walnut-trees; while limestone mountains, resembling Giggleswick scars in appearance, but higher and bolder, bound the vale at no great distance.
There is a Cathedral at Chamberi of late Gothic: the style is rich, but the edifice being unfinished, it has little effect. It is probably of the latter half of the fifteenth century. The Sainte Chapelle is perhaps a little earlier, and the gateway of the prisons preceded both. This is all I could observe of pointed architecture, and the whole is but little. I walked to Charmettes, at one time the residence of J. J. Rousseau. Part of my walk was over rocky hills, inhabited by spiders of taste, for the remains of the wings shewed that they fed almost exclusively on the Papilio Apollo. Finding a voiture on the point of starting, I took a place in it for Geneva. We left Chamberi about a quarter before five, and passed through a pleasant country of gravelly hills, shaded by oaks and chesnut-trees, and bounded in the distance by limestone precipices. I slept at Aix, whose antiquities were soon despatched; a Doric triumphal arch, in a very imperfect state, is all the architecture, but there are considerable remains of ancient baths which are interesting, and would be much more so if the whole were cleared out.