Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1860-09-26

We returned from Mont Blanc yesterday
at live o'clock. At six Istole away from my
friends, who were travel-worn, and drove 10
the Campagna Diodati, at Coligny, two miles
from Geneva, and which was once the resi-
dence Of Lord Byron.
The road wound along the bank Of the lake,
amid titled chatedue and the mansions of the
rich. The evening was fine and the air balmy.
The sun was sinking behind the blue peaks
Of the Jura on the left, and Mont Blanc, in all
his snow-clad ~splendor, rose up against the
sky to the right i stood upright in the car
riage for the last mile of my journey, drink
ing the inspiration that was never yet caught
by the pencil Of the painter.
] had travelled for days along the deep
gorges Of the Alps crossed the MGR de Glace,
and climbed aD the garden ut Mont Blanc,
passed from Chatnonix to Martigny on mule
back, and contemplated the solemn sublimi-
ties OF St Bernard; but none had so lifted
and rapt my soul as this calm twilight drive
20 the abode hallowcd by genius,
As | passed a titled mansion, the master Of
IL stood leaning against the gate, looking into
the road. He was thin, pale, and
and apparently insensible to the glories
around him,
Som secret sorrow was gnawing at his
heart and col0ring everything about him with
is jaundiced hues are he IhrRd ms
hngnid eyes 20 me and seemed to say
mentally, Whist do you See SO beautiful in
these scenes, silly, romantic creature 2 to me
they are tamc and insipidi"
Who is that gentleman leaning against
the gateY' | asked Of the coachman.
The Count NJ" he replied, and began to
whistle.
"Heis very pale; is he sicks' I again in
Intercepted.
Non" he said, md kept on whistling.
"Do yon know him?" 4 questioned.
81 was his coacbman for five years" he
rGoined, beginning TO whistle louder.
is he marriedY' | inquired.
"Non," he gasped when he stopped to take
breath.
as he single.Y' / pursued.
Non" he said, as he inflated his lungs for
n louder strain.
"Will you tell me what you know about
that man p L asked sharply.
"0ai," he replied, and kept on whistling.
81 am ready TO hear your story of the
count" said, impOticntly, putting a franc
in his hand.
"EhbicRP ' here he gave the horses a cut
with the whip. "Je suppose u Jaut que je
p0us ie disc." fHe IL one of the richest men
IN the canton. He is not young, you see
He is fifty; and old men, when they take
young wives, sometimes get cheated. Three
years agoa young English woman came here
20 pass the summer. She was beautiful
She took an apartment, kept her carriage,
and passed for great things. Some thought
she was the daughter Of a duke or an earl
The count thought so, and married her. The
next day an English captain came and claim.
cd her. There was a duel. The captain
was wounded and the count went travelling.
lie has been all over the world, and has
brought back with him his wounded pride
and broken heart But he loved her andlove
is a serious thing" he said halfto himself
WAS she the wife of the captain ? | asked.
'Non,' he said looking at the horses.
WAS she his sister ? | continued.
Here we are II he exclaimed, springinI
from the seat, and opening the door of tn
carriage. "This is the Campagna Diodati
so called because an Italian named Diodat
built il and lived in it several years. 1t i
now'closed. Last year it was occupied by
rich American; the year before by a wealth
Englishman and some years ago it was use
for a fashionable boarding house."
entered by a broad gate and took an ave
nue. that il seemed to me Byron would hay
taken in his most poetic moods. After tie
minutes walk l came TO a bench which wa
nearly enveloped in the pendent clusters
green foliage, but from which one could Sc
through a narrow vista, the sun going dow
'NtllAAN kHN PNhNo Va IA liz VII VII
bench sat a man, resting his elbow on his kne
his check buried in the palm of his hand, ar
his eyes fixed on the sun. paused and +
garded the figure from head to root. tri,
to speak, but could not make an audib
sound. II was not awe that held me.
was the unexpcctedness of meeting one who
| had known so long and so Familiarity
thought. At last he rose and walked slow
and t~houghtfully down q path that wound
an opposite direction, and which must ha
led to the border ofthe lake. My eyes follow
him till the foliage and the gathering twilig
concealed him from my view. 1t was [
shade Of Byron, England's third great ba
Awaking from this dream, l returned to
chateau by the same avenue.
The Campagna Diodati is a large, two-stol
square mansion, with a hall in the centre, a
drawing rooms on each side. 1t is viii
with green shutters, and dark green veranC
on three sides. 1t is such q mansion, in
pcarance, as one sees at every turn on
Hudson. Forty-three years ago, this 81
mcr, Byron took up his residence in t
chatedu. Some accounts say he lived h
three years, and others, one.
The first is most probable, since it '
here he wrote the third canto of "Chi
Harold" Manfred" 1.-THE Prisoner of O.
lon" and some of the cantos of 'Don Jua
'llere, forty-three years ago, seated in {
yerandah that looks toward the lake and
mountains, Byron and Shelley, Monk lie
and dollhouse, were wont to plss the sui
evening in long dissertations on poetry,
in watching the lightnings leaping and c,
ing around the trembling peaks of Ju
over the sill of that door his feet passed ds
for years through that gate his carriage
sued and returned these flowers were
tered by his tears; these zephyrs bore av
kfs eipbc. fhooa troac liafanAl 10 fba toll
his sorrows, and lent him their sympath
said, mentally, as l stood looking up to
windows, and trying to paint on the tab
of my memory the home of genius. j g
cred "a bouquet of roses from a bush that
coachman told me Byron had planted, ant
turned to Geneva.
This morning, at seven o'clock, we wen
board a small steamer to make the tou
Lake Leman. At the head of the lake,
near where the Rhone enters it, on the s.
side, stands in a small cluster of trees,
Hotel Byron, which is a long three-story W
building. A hundred yards further dc
on the same side, is the prison of Chillon,
scene Of THE Prisoner Of Chillon." 1t
low, round, stone building, surrounded
water, and occupied for the purposes of
police. An hour from the prison of Chi
also on the Swiss side Of the lake, is seeI
n III the chateau Of Prince Napoleon,
The property Of his uncle, Napoleon the /
AT five o'clock, l went ashore at Cope
see the chateau Of Madam de Stael. 1t
lllWn gnnoro h.,s11s.- ...kL - -