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William Wordsworth to the Earl of Lonsdale-Switzerland.

from steep lofty hills into the plain of the Rhine), Carlsruhe, and through the Black Forest to Schaffhausen; thence to Zurich, Berne, Thun, Interlachen. Here our Alpine tour might be said to commence, which has produced much pleasure thus far, and nothing that deserves the name of difficulty, even for the ladies. From the valley of Lautertrunnen, we crossed the Wiegern Alp to Grindelwald, and then over the grand Shiedech to Meyringen. This journey led us over high ground, and for fifteen leagues along the base of the loftiest Alps, which reared their bare or snowclad ridges and pikes, in a clear atmosphere, with fleecy clouds now and then settling upon and gathering round them. We heard and saw several avalanches; they are announced by a sound like thunder, but more metallic and musical. This warning naturally makes one look about, and we had the gratification of seeing one falling, in the shape and appearance of a torrent or cascade of foaming water, down the deep worn crevices of the steep or perpendicular granite mountains. Nothing can be more awful than the sound of these cataracts of ice and snow thus descending, unless it be the silence which succeeds. The elevations from which we beheld these operations of nature, and saw such an immense range of primitive mountains stretching to the east and west, were covered with rich pasturage and beautiful flowers, among which was abundance of the Monkshood, a flower which I had never seen but in the trim borders of our gardens, and which here grew not so much in patches as in little woods or forests, towering above the other plants. At this season, the herdsmen are with their cattle in still higher regions than those which we trod, the herbage where we travelled being reserved till they descend in the autumn. We have visited the Abbey of Engelberg, not many leagues from the borders of the lake of

William Wordsworth to the Earl of Lonsdale-Switzerland.

Lucerne. The tradition is, that the site of the Abbey was appointed by angels, singing from a lofty mountain that rises from the plain of the valley, and which, from having been thus honored, is called Engelberg, or the Hill of the Angels. It is a glorious position for such beings, and I should have thought myself repaid for the trouble of so long a journey by the impression made upon my mind when I first came in view of the vale in which the convent is placed, and of the mountains that enclose it. The light of the sun had left the valley; and the deep shadows spread over it heightened the splendor of the evening light, and spread upon the surrounding mountains, some of which had their summits covered with pure snow, and others were half hidden by vapors rolling round them; and the Rock of Engelberg could not have been seen under more fortunate circumstances, for masses of cloud glowing with the reflection of the rays of the setting sun were hovering round it, like choirs of spirits preparing to settle upon its venerable head. To-day we quit this place to ascend the mountain Righi. We shall be detained in this neighborhood till our passports are returned from Berne, signed by the Austrian Minister, which we find absolutely necessary to enable us to proceed into the Milanese. At the end of five weeks, at the latest, we hope to reach Geneva, returning by the Simplon Pass. There I might have the pleasure of hearing from your Lordship; and may I beg that you would not omit to mention our Westmoreland politics? The diet of Switzerland is now sitting in this place. Yesterday I had a long conversation with the Bavarian envoy, whose views of the state of Europe appear to me very just. This letter must unavoidably prove dull to your Lordship; but when I have the pleasure of seeing you, I hope to make some amends, though I feel this is a very superficial way of viewing a

Lady Morgan to Lady Clarke-Lake of Como and its Amusements.

country, even with reference merely to the beauties of nature. We have not met with many English; there is scarcely a third part as many in the country as there was last year. A brother of Lord Gray is in the house where we now are, and Lord Ashburton left yesterday. I must conclude abruptly, with kindest remembrances to Lady Lonsdale and Lady Mary. Believe me, my Lord, most faithfully,

Your Lordship's

WM. WORDSWORTH

VIII.-LAKE OF COMO AND ITS AMUSEMENTS.

Lady Morgan to Lady Clarke.

LAKE OF COMO (VILLA FONTANA), June 26th, 1817.

The attentions of the Milanese increase with our residence among them, and persons of all parties, Guelphs and Ghibellines, have united to pay us attention. The ex-Minister of the Interior made a splendid entertainment for us at his beautiful villa, as did the Trivulgis, and a Marquis de Sylvas, of whose villa and gardens there are many printed accounts. We were told there was no hospitality in Italy. We not only dined out three times a week on an average, but we have had carriages and horses so much at our service, that, though we have made several excursions of twenty and thirty miles into the country, we never had occasion to hire horses but once, and that was to go to Pavia, where we spent a few days, and made the acquaintance of old Volta, the inventor of the Voltaic battery. We went with the Count and Countess Confalonieri to see Monza and its magnificent cathedral, where the iron crown of Lombardy is kept. The difficulty and ceremonies attending on this, convince me that the travellers (not even Eustace, who

Lady Morgan to Lady Clarke-Lake of Como and its Amusements.

mentions so lightly having seen this relic) have never seen it at all. We had an order, expedited the night before, from the Archduke to the chanoines of Monza, who received us in grand pontificals at the gates of the church, as did the Grand Master of the imperial suite at the palace of Monza, where the Archduke resides. We have also been to see the Grand Chartreuse, and in all my life I was never so entertained; but as to churches, and pictures, and public edifices, and institutions, my head is full of nothing else. To tell the truth, we became latterly quite overcome and exhausted by the life we led, for we never knew one moment's quiet, nor had time to do any thing. We had been offered the use of two beautiful villas on the Lake of Como for nothing; one of them, the Villa Someriva, one of the handsomest palaces in Lombardy. We left Milan ten days back, and have since lived in a state of enchantment, and I really believe in fairy land. I know not where to refer you for an account of the Lake of Como, except to Lady M. W. Montagu's letters. The lake is fifty miles long, and the stupendous and magnificent mountains which embosom it are strewn along their edges with the fantastic villas of the nobility of Milan, to which, as there is no road, there is no approach but by water. We took boat at the pretty antique town of Como, and literally landed in the drawing-room of the Villa Tempi. The first things I perceived were the orange and lemon trees, laden with fruit, growing in groves in the open air; the American aloes, olive trees, vines, and mulberries, all in blossom or fruit, covering the mountains almost to their summits. The blossoms and orange flowers, with the profusion of roses and wild pinks, were almost too intoxicating for our vulgar senses. The next day we set off on our aquatic excursions through regions the mildest, the loveliest,

Lady Morgan to Lady Clarke-Lake of Como and its Amusements.

the most romantic that can be conceived. We landed at all the curious and classical points-at Pliny's fountain, the site of his villa, etc., and after a course of twenty-five miles reached my villa of Someriva, which we found to be a splendid palace, all marble, surrounded by groves of orange trees, but so vast, so solitary, so imposing, and so remote from all medical aid, that I gave up the idea of occupying it, and we rowed off to visit other villas, and at last set up our boat at a pretty inn on the lake, where we sat up half the night watching the arrival of boats and listening to the choruses of the boatmen. The next day we returned, and after new voyages found a beautiful little villa on the lake, ten minutes' row from Como, which we have taken for two months, at six pounds a month. The Villa Fontana consists of two pavilions, as they are called here, or small houses of two stories, which are separated by a garden. In one reside the signor and signora, our hosts, with a charming family; in the other reside the Signor and Signora Morgan, with an Italian valet-de-chambre. These pavilions are on the lake in a little pyramid, the vines and grapes festooned from tree to tree, and woven into a canopy above. The lake spreads before us with all its mountain beauties and windings. To the right lies the town of Como, with its Gothic cathedral. Immediately behind us, on every side, rise the mountains which divide Italian Switzerland from Lombardy, covered with vines, olives, and lime trees, and all this is lighted by a brilliant sun and canopied by skies bright, and blue, and cloudless. We have already made some excursions into these enchanting mountains, which are like cultivated gardens raised into the air, and walked within a mile of the Swiss frontier, We have a boat belonging to the villa anchored in the garden, into which we jump and row off. But

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