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m valley on the left side of the road was
scattered over with immense blocks of white
limestone; some masses which were m situ,
presented a variety of fantastic shapes, resembling
at a distance colossal statues,
others were pyramidal, like the rocks in
Dovedale. They seemed the ruins of a
mountain that had been shattered in pieces
on the spot.
Beyond these ruins there is a maGnifi-
cent cascade, called the Cascade de Cour.
The water falls in one unbroken stream
from a great height; it is the same cascade
which Rousseau describes as having seen on
his first coming to Lyons, and which made
so lasting an impression on his mind.
About ten miles from Chamberry, the road
passes over a handsome stone bridge, resting
on a rock of sandstone ; the upper part
of the rock is distinctly stratified, dipping
to the river, but the strata are singularly
intersected at an acute angle, by very regular
cleavages, which might be mistaken
lor stratification, were not the strata here
well defined and accessible.
After crossing the bridge, the road turns
suddenly, and is carried westward along a
deep ravine for several miles, called la Defile
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P A S S A G E O F L E S E C H E L L E S . 169
de la Grotte. The limestone rocks now overhang
both sides of the road. Just before
entering this ravine, I observed the limestone
strata on the left were perpendicular.
The limestone here is subcrystalline, and
extremely hard, but it is as much shattered
as some of the chalk rocks in Kent. The
road, after continuing a few miles between
rocks of limestone, through which it appears
to have been cut, is suddenly closed
by a natural wall of rock, at least 800 feet
in height, which seems to bar all farther
progress. It is through this rock that an
archway has been perforated, 27 feet in
breadth, as many in height, and 960 feet
in length. We were five minutes in passing
through it, but instead of the bare and
rocky ravine we had just left, a rich extended
vale, surrounded by magnificent
mountains, burst in an instant on our view,
as if by enchantment.
The galleries cut through the rocks on the
Semplon route produce no surprise, for,
before entering them, you discover what
the scene will be when you are passed
through, but the traveller who arrives at
the passage of les Echelles from Chamberry,
sees nothing on his approach but barren
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