Th' increasing prospect tires our wand'ring eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise.
Having sufficiently contemplated the view, we began to think of returning to the valley, which presented a most enlivening appearance after the chaos we had left. The descent was much easier than the ascent, and we were not long before we met our mules, and returned to our inn in great prosperity, although we had, most of us, occasional falls during so difficult a progress.
We had great reason to be pleased with our expedition, and were most fortunate in the clearness of the day, without which our labour would have been lost. The valley is, of course, much more mild in its atmosphere than the mountain, but the weather was autumnal, and a fire was quite indispensable to our comfort. There are no less than five glaciers in this valley, they are separated from each other by forests and by cultivated lands, and this intermixture presents an appearance which, from its singularity, cannot fail to astonish the beholder. These glaciers all lie at the foot of that vast chain of mountains, which supply the sources of many of the greatest rivers in Europe. I observed that the mountains in this vicinity were the first I had seen enlivened by the mixture of the larch with the fir, which produces a very pleasing effect, and continues afterwards to be often seen. The vast quantities of Alpine strawberries that every-where abound on these mountains, have a most excellent flavor, and numbers of children employed in gathering them find ready sale among the numerous strangers, attracted by the wonders of the neighbourhood. These Alps possess great attractions for the botanist, who is surrounded by saxifrage, rhododendrons, and a variety of other plants, which he must highly value, but which I have not sufficient knowledge of the science to distinguish particularly. Nor would the mineralogist find fewer attractions in the rocks themselves, than the botanist in the plants which they produce. We did not witness any of those avalanches which are said to fall so frequently from the mountains, and of the dreadful effects of which such interesting statements have been published. The whole of this valley, however, appears to be continually threatened, by the enormous masses which hang over it, and seem to need the application of but a trifling force, to move them from situations, to which they are to all appearance so slightly attached.
CHAP. VIII.
We left Chamouny at an early hour to proceed on our way to Martigny, from which it is nine leagues distant; but as there is nothing which deserves the name of a road, we continued our journey on mules. The morning was so very hazy, that we were prevented from enjoying the prospect from the Col de Balme, and we travelled for several hours amongst mountains, at one moment enveloped in the fog, which was sometimes the next instant carried to a considerable distance from us, by one of those sudden currents of air which are so common in these elevated situations. As we approached Valorsine, the rain began to fall, but fortunately it was not of long continuance, and afterwards the weather became much clearer.
Nothing can surpass the romantic situation of this little village, its valley is one of the most secluded we had yet seen amongst the Alps. The impression which this scene has left on my mind, can never be effaced; every thing presented an appearance of tranquillity, and of extreme simplicity. It was the feast of the patron saint of the village, and the peasants were in their best dresses. The women were of a better appearance than is usual in Savoy; their dress attracted the particular attention of our French companion, who had never before quitted his own country, and who had previously expressed a contempt for Savoy, which he now seemed willing to retract; and certainly it would be difficult to see a spot where primitive simplicity was more conspicuous. We determined to refresh ourselves here, and afterwards went through the village to the church, which was decorated with flowers for the festival; and during our walk we were saluted with the utmost civility by the peasants, who surveyed us with a curiosity which proved they had but little intercourse with strangers. A monk saluted me, and said in Latin he was rejoiced again to see Englishmen. In one of the groups, I observed a fortune-teller, who seemed to have a good deal of custom, but her dialect was one of the most singular I ever heard. The inn where we breakfasted, like most of the houses here, was raised on beams, to allow for the depth of the snow in winter. They are built of timber, and covered with pieces of fir, cut to about the size of tiles. The rooms were very small, and could with difficulty accommodate the unusual number of guests then assembled. Civility was more abundant than provisions, but there was more fruit than one could expect to see amongst these mountains.