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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.