120 
STATE AGKICULTUEAL SOCIETY. 
river Eau Noire, which, though parallel in its course, flows in a direction di¬ 
rectly opposite to that of the Arve, and empties into the Rhone on the fur¬ 
ther side of the mountains, whose snows and ice supply them both. ^ ^ 
At one o’clock, leg-weary and hungry, I entered the hot and dusty streets 
of Martigny, bathed, dined, and, through the beautifully shaded avenue 
which connects the old and the new town, made my way to the R. R. depot, 
reaching it just in time to get my ticket and take the train. 
MARTIGNY TO YILLENEUVE. 
A sharp shrill scream of the locomotive and we are out of sight of Mar¬ 
tigny, and the long train, like a swift fiery serpent, is winding its way 
through the narrow and beautiful valley of the upper Rhone—now so close to 
the mountain, on the side where I sit, that nothing is visible but his rocky 
ribs—now farther away, so that I may glance upward to his towering peaks, 
and at the same moment enjoy the charming landscape and beautiful river. 
Another scream of the whistle—another village in sight—’tis Villeneuve I 
Sixty miles in so short a time ? Verily these Swiss engines are not so slow, 
after all. I had thought to stop at Montreux, a league further on, but the 
sight of this pleasant little village and of beautiful Lake Leman (Geneva) so 
charms me chat I cannot go on. Am out of the car in a jiffy, make for the 
gate, and show my ticket. “ Voire billet c'est a Monirmz, Monsieur V I know 
my ticket is to Montreux, but I stop here. I deliver it up, enquire for the 
Hotel de Byron, and slowly wend my way thither. It is quite a little walk to 
the foot of the mountain, where it lies nestled amid shrubbery and flowers, 
and I may sit down on this bridge and view the scenery, which for grandeur 
and beauty combined excels anything I have yet seen in Europe. 
I enter the charming and ample grounds which surround the Hotel de 
Byron. It is a beautiful freestone mansion, with iron verandas, all covered 
over with climbing roses—the most delightful and inviting traveler’s rest my 
weary feet have ever entered. I secure a handsome room, fronting the lake, 
enjoy a nice cold bath, and lie down to rest. 
The call to supper startles me from sleep, and the gathering shadows of 
evening tell me how near I came to losing the glory of a sunset such as it 
may never be my good fortune to witness again. x- * j seated by 
the window, through which trailing vines and fragrant roses peep into my 
chamber; the air has been cooled and purified by the gentle shower of rain 
just fallen, and with head reclining against the casement, 1 look out with a 
delicious dreaminess upon the unrivalled scene. 
At my left, in the beautiful valley through which flows the heaven-blue 
Rhone, lies the little town of Villeneuve, on the right, the villages of Mon¬ 
treux, Vevay and Merges, backed by far-reaching, terraced vineyards, on 
the slopes of the mountains. Before me is blue and placid Lake Leman, its 
deep waters girt in by the snow-clad Alps on the left, and majestic Jura on 
the right, as a crystal mirror is bordered round with massive frame of bronze, 
nay, of gold, for the sun, just going down behind the Jura pours a flood of 
light all over the scene, crimsoning the water and covering the mountains 
wiih a golden blaze. Upon the bosom of the lake a fleet of 
“ White sails go skimming down,” 
each making its goal the Isle de Byron, which seems to float therein as an 
emerald might float in molton silver; and then, almost at my feet—its 
ancient walls, still, as of old, by Leman’s waters blue—the old Prison of 
Chillon, so famed in the early times of Svvitzerland, and evermore immortal¬ 
ized by that touching poem of the gifted Lord Byron. 
The iruagination could hardly conceive of a picture more grand and beau¬ 
tiful, or fraught with deeper historic interest. Oh, if I could only put it 
upon canvass, as God is now engraving it for me on the tablet of memory ! 
When I awoke again at 9 o’clock, the scene was changed, but none the less 
interesting. The moon had risen in her glory, shedding a mild and mellow radi- 
