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and reflected to infinity from the sides of the cove,
Mont Callier, situated upon the side of a moun- Mont tain about a league from Stupenige, is an old pa- Callier. lace, very large, and capable of such improvement as to be much superior to any of the other country palaces of his Sardinian Majesty. It was here the
late King was seized and made prisoner, (and not at Rivoli) about one o'clock after midnight. The palace was surrounded by the guards, with fuch fecrecy and dispatch, that an officer and four or five soldiers ascending the stairs, easily forced their way through the small guard that attempted to oppose his passage into the King's bed-chamber, before the least alarm could be given. The King was in bed with the Comtesse de St. Sebastienne, On their entering the room, he jumped out of bed, and being shewn the order for his confine. ment, made this reflection aloud :-Je n'auroit jam mais çrų que mon fils eut eu tant d'esprit. He was immediately conveyed to the chateau of Rivoli, and soon after brought back again to Mont Callier, where he died about fix or seven years after. At the same time that he was made prisoner, Madame de St. Sebastienne was conveyed to a convent, and there shut up for life. The room in which the King was seized, was his bed-chamber at his return, and in the same fated room he died. The same furniture remains in it, and shews how simply the apartment of a King was furnished in this country a few years past. The floor is of brick, the walls white-washed, and hung with a few wretched portraits ; there is one of a woman, which is handsome, and has wrote on the back Marchese D'Astruzzi; I suppose it was her name. The chairs are covered with crimson cut velvet, the window hutters plain brown pak. It is a
large fquare room; the bed has been taken away. I cannot but think the passing the remainder of his days in the very apartment where his wife was torn from him, and he himself deprived of his liberty, are circumstances that might have been dispensed with in this poor old man's situation.
There are no other pictures in this palace be. sides old family portraits, which are hung up in the galleries, and look so terrific in their uncouth dreffes and armour, that I should not like to be left alone with them by candle light. Some old doors still reinain, and are odd enough ; they are embroidered all over in gold and filver, almost black at present, but rich in quaint devices and mottos. Two or three struck our fancy, as pretty for their day; namely, a tree burning, the motto Silere et uri. Over laurel wreaths-- Fortem fponte Sequor. One of the most delightful prospects (that imagination can paint) is given you by the windows of this palace. You look over a vast tract of country finely wooded, with the river Po'wind. ing fantastically in the valley, whilft branching out different ways, it gives birth to a beautiful iland, finely clumped with majestic trees; many buildings appear dispersed in such manner as if they had been placed on purpose to ornament, not crowd the scene ; little hills clothed in vines, the plains in the highest cultivation, and the whole bounded by a chain of mountains covered
] His present Majesty never visits Mont Callier. The Duke of Savoy, who has a very good taste, is remarkably fond of this place, and is making gardens above the palace on the sides of the mountain, which when completed will be more agreeable to Nature, and consequently in a much truer taste than any of those about Turin. :
This letter is already such a packet, that I do not know whether the post-master may not send it to the prime minister for inspection: for there is a fufpicion and a police reigns in this town that lurpasses the genius of Sartine. But more of this another time; for the present, I shall not absolutely add another word, except to beg you to observe, if till now I have not kept my promise; and to tell me sincerely in your next, if I do not grow too circumstantial and tiresome. Upon the Nightest hint I shall mend of this fault; meantime, believe me, as always, yours most affectionately, &c.
My next letter shall positively be my last from Turin.
Turin, Odober the 24th, As our time now draws near for quitting 11 Turin in order to visit Genoa, you must not expect to hear from me again till after we have reached that city, and I seize this first opportunity to conclude my observations upon the environs of
Upon the top of a very high mountain, a league and a half from the town, stands the magnificent church called La Superga; it was built in confe- La Suquence of a vow made by Victor Amadeus, that if perga
Church, victorious, he would erect a church upon that spot, from which, with Prince Eugene, in the year 1706, during the siege of Turin, he had observed the distribution and the operations of the enemy's troops before the town. Accordingly the French army being defeated, and obliged to raise the siege, the building of this church was begun in 1715, and it was consecrated in 1731. The architect made choice of, was Philip Juvara ; though it is not said that Victor had included this preference in his vow.
The ascent to this church is so extremely rapid and difficult even now, that it seems to have been almost impossible for human art and address to have brought together the materials here employ