officer on full gallop, who said, 'I salute you on the part of the Colonel Henry Labedoyère.' The colonel soon arrived at the head of the 4th regiment of hussars, carrying an eagle, which had been hidden in the military chest. The garrison of Grenoble had been augmented by a part of the 7th and 11th regiments of the line, selected on purpose, as not being acquainted with the Emperor's person, and sent from Chambery. General

Marchand, commanding the place, was faithful to the king. The regular force was composed of the 7th and 11th, 2000 of the third regiment of engineers, two battalions of the 5th, and the 4th of the artillery of the line, in which last regiment Napoleon had been raised to the command of a company twenty five years ago. The 7th regiment marched out of the town at four in the afternoon to meet the invaders, but were ordered back by General Marchand. The whole force was ranged on the ramparts; the cannon were loaded, and the matches lighted; the national guards were drawn out in the rear of the regular troops, and were themselves backed by the mass of the population of Grenoble. The gates were shut at halfpast eight. Termanouski, with eight Polish lancers, presented himself at the gate of Bonne, just as Napoleon entered the suburbs. He demanded the keys, and was answered, that General Marchand had secured them; but at the same time, the garrison and the cannoniers, instead of firing as they were

ordered, shouted Vive l'Empereur, and were joined by all the inhabitants on the ramparts and those of the suburbs, who now approached with axes and began to beat down the gate. The keys were sent just as the gate was driven in; and the advanced guard, entering the town, were met by a crowd with torches, issuing out to meet Napoleon, who was soon seen walking alone, and some paces before his troops. The colonel told us that the crowd rushed upon him, threw themselves before him, seized his hands and knees, kissed his feet, and gave way to every demonstration of unbounded transport. The mayor and many of the municipality would have accompanied him to the town-house, but he slipped aside into the inn of one Labarre, an old soldier of his guard, and was there for some time completely lost to his staff, who became so much alarmed, that Termanouski and Bertrand, after many efforts, pushed their way into the room, and found the Emperor, unaccompanied by a single soldier, in the midst of a crowd, who were thronging about him in every direction to see, to speak to, and to touch him. The officers succeeded for a moment or two in clearing the room, and placed tables and chairs against the door, to prevent another irruption, but without success; for the crowd burst in a second time, and the Emperor was nearly two hours in their hands unattended by a single guard. It was during this period that the gate of Bonne was brought under the window of the inn by a vast body of people,

who cried out, Napoleon, we could not offer you the keys of your good town of Grenoble, but here are the gates.' (1) »

La Grande Chartreuse.-No traveller of taste will, we are persuaded, think of quitting Grenoble without visiting this ancient monastery; particularly as the road to it has been pronounced by Gray, as one of the « most soleman, most romantic, and most astonishing scenes, he ever beheld. » Several routes lead to the Chartreuse; but the most frequented one is that of St. Laurent du Pont. This leaves the high road and the valley of the Isère, at Voreppe, and enters a defile between two mountains, which runs three leagues to the northward. Five or six torrents of water, which have formed the valleys through which they pass, must be passed, but not without sonie danger, before we arrive at the village of St. Laurent, where the heads of the order commonly stop in their carriages when they go to hold a chapter once a year at La Grande Chartreuse. Here the danger of passing the first torrents is at an end, but then that of the narrow roads hanging over other torrents, like the cornice of a lofty building, commences.

Those who

have seen the falling of cascades at a distance, have an opportunity now of being close to them. Here it is no longer a confused noise heard a great way off, but a continued roar, a noise that drowns all others, and does

(1) See Hobhouse's Letters written at Paris, during the last reign of the Emperor Napoleon. Vol. I. page 122,

not permit the bird to hear his own song, nor the travellers to be delighted with it. At length the valley closes, as it were, all at once, the two mountains meet, and their summits are lost in the clouds. On each side, however, the dreadful steeps present thorns, firs, rocks, etc., traversed by the torrents, and forming a barrier equally as inaccessible to those who might wish to penetrate into this retreat, as to others who would leave it by any other issue than this. One house built over an open archway, partly closed on each side by a gate, occupies the whole breadth of this passage. But after having passed the torrent, over a dangerous bridge, thrown from one mountain to the other, it is necessary to pass under the house with its back to the right against the mountain, and upon the left suspended over an abyss. Having passed this double gate, we find ourselves in the close of the Chartreuse, composed of a groupe of the highest mountains, the steepest and the wildest of the whole chain. Here the forests of firs that cover them from the base to the summit, the frowning rocks and torrents, are the only embellishments which supply the place of smiling meadows, orchards, and plantations. In traversing these astonishing regions we involuntarily exclaim, with the poet who visited these sublime scenes:

Oh Tu, severi Religio loci,

Quocunque gaudes nomine (non leve
Nativa nam certè fluenta

Numen habet, veteresque sylvas.)

Præsentiorem et conspicimus DEUM
Per invias rupes, fera per juga,
Clivosque præruptos, sonantes

Inter aquas, nemorumque noctem (1).

Continuing our walk about an hour towards the left, following the torrent of Guier vif, which falls into Guier mort, and forms the river des Eschelles, we hear the noise of the water against the rocks which obstruct the passage, but only see it at intervals through the umbrageous foliage, running along a frightful abyss, into which one false step might precipitate us. All at once we then come upon a cascade which falls down into the middle of the road from the summit of the mountain on the right. The horses may take fright, but there is no other passage; we must either venture directly under the cascade, whose volume is sufficient to crush the horse and his rider, or actually pass within the space of two or three feet between the precipice and the cascade, under the shower that it diffuses, and through the rapid current which it forms in the road. If the horse should be frightened, and should start too far to the left, he would fall into the torrent which runs in a bottom beneath this place at a depth of more than 400 perpendicular feet.

When the snows melt, the danger of the torrents is very great; but it is not so in summer, when pilgrimages are generally made, unless the torrents have been swollen by great storms.

(1) Ode written in the album of the Grande Chartreuse, August, 1741.