Evelyn's Diary. 23 Mar 1646. Next morning, we went to the Colonel's, who had sent his servant again to conduct us to his house, which we found to be a noble palace, richly furnished. There were other guests, all soldiers, one of them a Scotchman, but we could not learn one of their names. At dinner, he excused his rudeness that he had not himself spoken to us; telling us it was his custom, when he heard of any English travelers (who but rarely would be known to pass through that city for fear of the Inquisition), to invite them to his house, where they might be free. We had a sumptuous dinner; and the wine was so tempting, that after some healths had gone about, and we had risen from the table, the Colonel led us into his hall, where there hung up divers colors, saddles, bridles, pistols, and other arms, being trophies which he had taken with his own hands from the enemy; among them, he would needs bestow a pair of pistols on Captain Wray (age 21), one of our fellow-travelers, and a good drinking gentleman, and on me a Turkish bridle woven with silk and very curiously embossed, with other silk trappings, to which hung a half moon finely wrought, which he had taken from a bashaw whom he had slain. With this glorious spoil, I rode the rest of my journey as far as Paris, and brought it afterward into England. He then showed us a stable of brave horses, with his menage and cavalerizzo. Some of the horses he caused to be brought out, which he mounted, and performed all the motions of an excellent horseman. When this was done, and he had alighted,-contrary to the advice of his groom and page, who knew the nature of the beast, and that their master was a little spirited with wine, he would have a fiery horse that had not yet been managed and was very ungovernable, but was otherwise a very beautiful creature; this he mounting, the horse, getting the reins in a full carriere, rose so desperately that he fell quite back, crushing the Colonel so forcibly against the wall of the menage, that though he sat on him like a Centaur, yet recovering the jade on all fours again, he desired to be taken down and so led in, where he cast himself on a pallet; and, with infinite lamentations, after some time we took leave of him, being now speechless. The next morning, going to visit him, we found before the door the canopy which they usually carry over the host, and some with lighted tapers; which made us suspect he was in a very sad condition, and so indeed we found him, an Irish Friar standing by his bedside as confessing him, or at least disguising a confession, and other ceremonies used in extremis; for we afterward learned that the gentleman was a Protestant, and had this Friar, his confidant; which was a dangerous thing at Milan, had it been but suspected. At our entrance, he sighed grievously, and held up his hands, but was not able to speak. After vomiting some blood, he kindly took us all by the hand, and made signs that he should see us no more, which made us take our leave of him with extreme reluctancy and affliction for the accident. This sad disaster made us consult about our departure as soon as we could, not knowing how we might be inquired after, or engaged, the Inquisition being so cruelly formidable and inevitable, on the least suspicion. The next morning, therefore, discharging our lodgings, we agreed for a coach to carry us to the foot of the Alps, not a little concerned for the death of the Colonel, which we now heard of, and who had so courteously entertained us.

Evelyn's Diary. 23 Mar 1646. From this uncomfortable place, we prepared to hasten away the next morning; but, as we were getting on our mules, comes a huge young fellow demanding money for a goat which he affirmed that Captain Wray's (age 21) dog had killed; expostulating the matter, and impatient of staying in the cold, we set spurs and endeavored to ride away, when a multitude of people being by this time gotten together about us (for it being Sunday morning and attending for the priest to say mass), they stopped our mules, beat us off our saddles, and, disarming us of our carbines, drew us into one of the rooms of our lodging, and set a guard upon us. Thus we continued prisoners till mass was ended, and then came half a score grim Swiss, who, taking on them to be magistrates, sat down on the table, and condemned us to pay a pistole for the goat, and ten more for attempting to ride away, threatening that if we did not pay it speedily, they would send us to prison, and keep us to a day of public justice, where, as they perhaps would have exaggerated the crime, for they pretended we had primed our carbines and would have shot some of them (as indeed the Captain was about to do), we might have had our heads cut off, as we were told afterward, for that among these rude people a very small misdemeanor does often meet that sentence. Though the proceedings appeared highly unjust, on consultation among ourselves we thought it safer to rid ourselves out of their hands, and the trouble we were brought into; and therefore we patiently laid down the money, and with fierce countenances had our mules and arms delivered to us, and glad we were to escape as we did. This was cold entertainment, but our journey after was colder, the rest of the way having been (as they told us) covered with snow since the Creation; no man remembered it to be without; and because, by the frequent snowing, the tracks are continually filled up, we passed by several tall masts set up to guide travelers, so as for many miles they stand in ken of one another, like to our beacons. In some places, where there is a cleft between two mountains, the snow fills it up, while the bottom, being thawed, leaves as it were a frozen arch of snow, and that so hard as to bear the greatest weight; for as it snows often, so it perpetually freezes, of which I was so sensible that it flawed the very skin of my face.

Evelyn's Diary. 23 Mar 1646. Beginning now to descend a little, Captain Wray's (age 21) horse (that was our sumpter and carried all our baggage) plunging through a bank of loose snow, slid down a frightful precipice, which so incensed the choleric cavalier, his master, that he was sending a brace of bullets into the poor beast, lest our guide should recover him, and run away with his burden; but, just as he was lifting up his carbine, we gave such a shout, and so pelted the horse with snow-balls, as with all his might plunging through the snow, he fell from another steep place into another bottom, near a path we were to pass. It was yet a good while ere we got to him, but at last we recovered the place, and, easing him of his charge, hauled him out of the snow, where he had been certainly frozen in, if we had not prevented it, before night. It was as we judged almost two miles that he had slid and fallen, yet without any other harm than the benumbing of his limbs for the present, but, with lusty rubbing and chafing he began to move, and, after a little walking, performed his journey well enough. All this way, affrighted with the disaster of this horse, we trudged on foot, driving our mules before us; sometimes we fell, sometimes we slid, through this ocean of snow, which after October is impassible. Toward night, we came into a larger way, through vast woods of pines, which clothe the middle parts of these rocks. Here, they were burning some to make pitch and rosin, peeling the knotty branches, as we do to make charcoal, reserving what melts from them, which hardens into pitch. We passed several cascades of dissolved snow, that had made channels of formidable depth in the crevices of the mountains, and with such a fearful roaring as we could hear it for seven long miles. It is from these sources that the Rhone and the Rhine, which pass through all France and Germany, derive their originals. Late at night, we got to a town called Briga, at the foot of the Alps, in the Valteline. Almost every door had nailed on the outside and next the street a bear's, wolf's, or fox's head, and divers of them, all three; a savage kind of sight, but, as the Alps are full of the beasts, the people often kill them. The next morning, we returned to our guide, and took fresh mules, and another to conduct us to the Lake of Geneva, passing through as pleasant a country as that we had just traveled was melancholy and troublesome. A strange and sudden change it seemed; for the reverberation of the sunbeams from the mountains and rocks that like walls range it on both sides, not above two flight-shots in breadth, for a very great number of miles, renders the passage excessively hot. Through such extremes we continued our journey, that goodly river, the Rhone, gliding by us in a narrow and quiet channel almost in the middle of this Canton, fertilizing the country for grass and corn, which grow here in abundance.