JOURNAL OF THE LATE COUNTESS

OF *

AFTER bargaining with the muleteers for some days from Tendi, we brought them down from fifty-five louis to twenty-seven and a half; for which sum they were to carry us from Nice, as far as Coni, paying every expense of the passage over the mountains, &c. On Friday May 12th 1786, they were ordered to be ready at eight o'clock. We had dined at M. Helfried's the day before where the commandant, Comte de St. André, and his son, the Comte de Revel had assisted us in making the muleteers keep to their bargain, which they began to dispute, under pretence of our having too much baggage, but it was mere pretence, as they had seen all

our trunks, &c. some days before. Comte Laville and the Baron di Grimaldi and Père Boyes, breakfasted with us; nine, ten, eleven, struck, and no mules came; on sending to know the reason, we were informed that the muleteers refused to go without more money, we applied again to the commandant, who sent a soldier to bid them have all ready and depart with us in half an hour, or go to prison; and the expense of our journey should be theirs. It is not to be supposed that they again refused, and they arrived as soon as they had collected a sufficient number of mules, which they did by hiring three more to their own seven-at twelve we left Nice, which I must ever do with regret, having a great partiality to that charming place, both on account of its climate, society, the beauty of the rides and walks, and the ease with which strangers are accommodated with every convenience.

The first part of the road as far as Drap, where the Baron di Grimaldi has a house, is

chiefly in the bed of the river Paglior, you then rise a little and continue in a valley along the course of the river, for four or five miles, going along-side of the stream which lessens perceptibly, till you come into a very wild barren scene which leads to the top of a hill from which you descend into a fertile beautiful valley. About a mile from the top you find the Hotel de France, just above the village of Sçarena and by Duten's account thirteen miles from Nice. We were near four hours in getting there, when we dined at an excellent new house, which was kept by a Frenchman, whose trade is selling French wines that he imports to Nice, and sends up the country, the produce amongst these mountains not being sufficient for the consumption. We rested an hour and half, regretting that we were not likely to meet with so good an inn to sleep at. The road from thence to Tuet, a small village in a very picturesque situation is beautiful: leaving Tuet on the right we began to ascend a very high mountain; a

great part of the way, the road was cut through the rock and supported by terraces, the turns of which were so frequent and the ascent so imperceptible, that when at the top you are astonished to find the prodigious height at which you are arrived. It was then dusk (eight o'clock), and we could only just distinguish, on the other side of the mountain, in a well, the town of Sospello, and to which place, though it appeared at our feet, we did not arrive till ten o'clock, as the descent, like the ascent, was so frequently turned that it was not necessary to drag, and the road was so fine that we might have trotted all the way if we could have persuaded the muleteers to go out of their usual foot's-pace. The scenes appeared fine, but the moon did not shine bright enough to enable us perfectly to distinguish them. We arrived at Sospello, and found the commandant of the company of the regiment (Swipe) quartered there ready to receive us, and an Abbé who has an house adjoining to the inn, and where the Comte de

St. André had secured us two excellent apartments. We had a very good supper at the inn, and experienced great civility from Mr. Webber and the Abbé. In the morning, after taking leave of both, we set out about half-past eight from Sospello and immediately began a gentle ascent, the valley was rich for a few miles, we at last arrived at the top of a very high mountain from whence we saw the sea, and plainly distinguished the mountains in the Island of Corsica; descending in the same easy manner we found ourselves in another valley, at the end of which appeared the little town of Breglio, which we left on the right and took the turn of the valley which led to La Chiandola; arriving there in four hours (sixteen miles). The inn was in a romantic situation, but the accommodations would not have admitted of passing the night there; from thence to Tendi, words cannot describe the beauty of the road; the valley grew more confined, the river more rapid, the rocks higher, and more perpendicular, the frequent