SNOW-STORM IN THE ALPS. 239 seconds of painful suspense, he acknowledged that he was afraid of proceeding, and, thought we had better try to get back to FINALE. But the road was so narrow, that two carriages of any kind, could not pass, except at particular places where niches were hollowed out of the rock for this purpose. I then dismounted, and found, to my surprise and dismay, that my limbs were so benumbed, that I could scarcely support myself! He attempted to turn the carricello; but experienced great difficulty, as well as some danger, in this operation. And when, at last, he effected it, he soon became convinced that it was utterly impossible to make head against the storm of wind, sleet, and snow, which poured along this defile, in a direction contrary to our retreat! In the whole course of my life, I never experienced such sensations of cold. The tramontane blast came down from the Alps, so voracious of caloric, that it sucked the vital heat from every pore of my body! Here we lingered for full an hour, unable to get back, and fearing to proceed forward. We repeatedly heard fragments of rock detached from the precipices above us by the hurricane, crashing from steep to steep, and rolling into the sea beneath and we expected, every instant, to be buried under a torrent of stones, or swept down into the roaring waves. Among the agonising thoughts that rushed across my mind, in this perilous situation, the inscription on the pedestal of the Virgin's statue at Savona, recurred to my memory; and, as the mental energies are often enfeebled by danger, doubt, and bodily fatigue, the very name of the place we had left-FINALE—Suggested the superstitious and unmanly presentiment that this mountain pass and this snow-storm were destined to be the last scene of my mortal career! I now regretted, when too late, that curiosity had led me along this road at so advanced a period of the season, and in so hurried a manner—and, while shivering on this Alpine promontary, exposed to the freezing blast, and other dangers still more imminent, the thought of "friends and distant home," recalled to mind the picture which Thompson drew of a man perishing in a snow-storm—a recollection which added the misery of reminiscence to the peril and poignancy of present sufferings! The hour which passed in this situation, before the day glimmered upon us, appeared to be an age-and here I became convinced than the article of clothing which I purchased at SAVONA, was mainly instrumental in preserving my life. This sudden reflection threw a gleam of hope over the dreary scene, long before the beams of the sun illumined our path; and a superstitious emotion contributed to revive my drooping spirits, as it had previously tended to depress them. When I say that the additional article of dress proved a preservative of life on this trying occasion, I am aware that nothing would have been effectual, had I not been inured to atmospherical vicissitudes by three months' travelling in the open air previously. Yet as so I am deeply impressed with the conviction that, to the VIRGIN of SAVONA or to her holy CHEMISE, I owe my salvation on the mountain of FINALE. On my arrival at Nice, I found a courier laid up with dangerous, if not fatal inflammation of the lungs, from exposure to the same storm on the same mountain. At length the dawn appeared, though the hurricane continued with unabated violence, and the Mediterranean was one immense sheet of foam. The poor nizzard, who was almost as lifeless as myself, assisted me into the carricello, and we cautiously pursued our journey.* The exhaustion and terror of this morning induced such an irresistible propensity to sleep, that it was with the greatest difficulty I could keep myself from falling into a fatal lethargy, till we got to a village beyond the mountain, where coffee and a blazing fire recruited our exhausted frames. But during the whole of that day, I felt that I was on the verge of a serious illness—and, it was not till after a good night's sleep at ST. REMO, that I shook off the effects of the most terrible exposure and imminent danger which I had ever before encountered. As I ascended this mountain in darkness, lingered on its summit in terror, and descended from it in a state of stupor, I can form no clear idea of its locality. Probably it offers nothing remarkable or formidable, by day-light and in fine weather; but a hurricane of sleet in the darkness of night, makes a wonderful difference on an Alpine pass. I imagine this must be the place mentioned by Forsyth, in the following words :-"Here we left the felucca, and crossed on foot a mountain, which modern geographers class among the Apennines, though D. Brutus describes it as the last of the Alps. Jacet inter Apenninum et Alpes, impeditissimus ad iter faciendum. This pass, which appeared to DANTE one of the four worst in Italy, brought us round the promontary to a gap in the summit, when a hurricane meeting us with all the advantage of a blast tube, threatened to blow us back into the sea." Be this as it may, I would not again cross the mountain of FINALE, in such a night, for ten thousand pounds !† * When the sun rose, we perceived the whole country, in every direction, covered with snow. + It is clearly this mountain pass that was traversed by the spirited authoress of "Sketches of Italy," on her third day's journey from Nice. "We gladly left an abode so forlorn (Lovano) to commence our third day's journey; in the course of which, after climbing a mountain by a zig-zag path, so steep that we could scarcely keep our own seats, or the baggage could be prevented falling over the mule's shoulders, the whole length of the coast of CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NEW ROAD. 241 The storm raged with fury all the way from Finale to Oneglia, and scarcely a creature was to be seen in the towns of Lovano, Albenga, and Langueglia, through which we passed, so piercing was the cold, and so penetrating the sleet. Those who are unacquainted with Alpine regions can form no idea of the frigorific effects of a storm when the wind comes down from the snowclad mountains. The heat of the body is carried off with a velocity proportioned to that of the wind, by the rapid succession of cold atmospheres with which we are encircled. At ONEGLIA, where we dined, the NIZZARD met his master, conveying a large English carriage, with an equally large English family, bound for Italy. The Nizzard and the two horses which had brought us from Genoa, were now transferred to the berline, again to repass the mountain of Finale! The poor Nizzard cast a significant and dejected look at me, on receiving this order from his hard-hearted master-as much as to say, you know what we suffered this morning on the mountain! I gave him something to comfort him on the road. "Haud ignarus mali miseris succurrere disco." At this place the storm ceased-the sun broke out—and we had a delightful drive along the margin of the sea to ST. REMO, where I supped, in company with an English family travelling leisurely towards Italy, and where seven hours of restorative sleep removed the effects, though nothing but death can obliterate the memory, of the preceding night. We started at sun-rise from ST. REMO-breakfasted at MENTONE-and dined at NICE, where I was not sorry to come once more in contact with a TABLE D'HOTE and the French language. The route from Genoa to Nice is equally interesting, as that between PISA and GENOA, though exhibiting a very different cast of scenery. Were I to attempt a short graphic sketch of its more prominent and characteristic features, to which nothing but the pencil of a Linton, however, can do justice, I would say that, the broad, the blue, the boundless, and the tideless Mediterranean, here chafing against the wave-worn rocks, there murmuring on the golden sands, always in view, always in close proximity, forms the grand and glorious feature of the prospect, on one hand, to which the eye repeatedly turns for refreshment, and on which the imagination loves to roam, as well as to rest. On the other hand, and in magic contrast, Alps and Apennines rise in every variety of form, capped with everlasting snows, girdled with mighty forests, and based with perennial verdure. Between Italy, backed by lofty snow-covered mountains, and studded with towns and villages broke on our view, stretching away into remote distance."-Vol. I. p. 168. I i these majestic scenes, the towns and villages, white as Parian marble, are seen stretched in lengthened curves along the sinuosities of the bays; perched in irregular clusters on airy cliffs; or clinging, in fearful suspension, on the precipitous descents of the hills. The road now steals, in quietude and smoothness, along the very verge and level of the placid ocean-now creeps up the forbidding acclivity of a rugged steep, in slow and labouring zig-zags -winds along the furrowed brow of a lofty mountain-dives through the solid marble, and emerges on the edge of a giddy precipice, a thousand feet perpendicular above the murmuring surge, on one side; a thousand feet beneath overhanging and gigantic masses of rock on the other. Anon, the road strides, arch upon arch, over a frightful chasm, or impassable ravine— descends, by tortuous but gentle windings, the horrid steeps of a wild, a gloomy defile-and loses all trace of its existence on the broad and rugged bed of a mountain torrent. These are a few of the characteristic features of this new road to and from Italy-features which are varied, combined, and multiplied, ad infinitum. So far from being exaggerated, they are, from poverty of language, curtailed of their fair proportions, as every one will testify, who has travelled along this romantic and sublime route. The road is perfectly safe and pleasant for all who journey by easy stages, and at proper seasons. The beds of the mountain torrents, which are, in some places, half a mile in breadth, and tremendously rocky, are the only parts that are calculated to alarm the nervous traveller, especially after rains have fallen in the mountains. But, by waiting a few hours, in any of the neighbouring towns or villages, the river will run by, and leave only a fordable though rapid stream in the centre of its bed. I was amused, and, (remembering the scene at Borghetto,) rather alarmed, one day, on descending from the precipitous street of Porto Maurizio, to behold several small boats surrounding a huge English family coach, which had stuck fast in the bed of a neighbouring torrent, obliging the affrighted passengers to embark for the opposite side. Although the stream (from the melting of the snow on the mountains) was quite deep and rapid enough; yet it was evidently from the immense size and weight of the vehicle, rather than from the depth of the current, that the horses were unable to drag this heavy load of live and dead lumber up the rocky and shelving bank. This was the spot where our fair countrywoman (authoress of Sketches of Italy) experienced no small dismay, and certainly some danger, a few years previously. "Thus we went floundering on through mud and mire, and over rocks and stones, at the imminent peril of our limbs for above two hours, when turning an angle of the road, the bright lights of Porto Maurizio met our delighted view, shining from the opposite side of a little bay. But a wide roaring river lay between us and this haven of repose. On descending to its NICE. 243 borders, the muleteers, after some discussion among themselves, resolved not to hazard crossing it so close to the sea in its present swollen state, but rather endeavour to make their way to another ford higher up the stream. The night, however, was so dark that no path could be discerned; but as, by this time, we had all remounted to cross the river, they attempted to drive the mules along its banks; and, after tumbling about for a short distance on the top of a low wall, they took advantage of a convenient breach to drive the animals down into the torrent, and then ran away to cross it themselves, by a foot bridge at some distance! The sure-footed creatures carried us safely down the broken wall, though the plunge they made in the exploit was desperate enough ;-but thus left to themselves in the dark, we could hardly force them to proceed further into the rushing river, and were, indeed, uncertain whether our next step might not be our last! The only sound too which we heard the awful roaring of the waves within a few yards distance -tended to increase rather than alleviate the horrors of the moment; and it seemed little less than a miracle that we got across this rapid torrent at all, and were able to bless Heaven for escaping in safety from a situation of such imminent peril." It was at this spot-at a much later period of the year-and I believe in a more swollen state of the waters, that we crossed this torrent. The carricello was full of water in an instant, and again I prepared to swim; but the horse which we now had, was a high and powerful animal, and soon dragged us to dry land. I would advise all travellers, and especially invalids, to dismount at these places, and cross by some foot-bridge, which is almost always to be found in the vicinity, both to lighten the carriage and to avoid perturbation of mind, as well as some bodily danger. NICE. It is on the road between St. REMO and NICE that the attention of a medical traveller, in particular, is often arrested by smiling and romantic valleys, opening on the ocean to the South, and screened from the Alpine blast on the North, by steep and olive-clad mountains-presenting localities that would seem to promise restoration of health to the phthisical invalid, if restoration were possible; or, at all events, a friendly and salutary retreat from the cold, damp, gloomy, and changeful skies of Northern Europe, but especially of Great Britain, during Winter and Spring. St. REMO, Mentone, VILLA FRANCA, and NICE, were the places which appeared to afford the greatest number of topographical advantages for those who seek for health on this part of the Mediterranean coast. VILLA FRANCA is certainly the most closely sheltered by protecting mountains; but is too open to the Eastern blast, from its position. MENTONE appeared to me superior in point of geo |