Sunday, Sept. 22.--I said mass at 5. Soon after 6 we set off for Sion. Arrived at 10, and found a grand military pontifical high mass begun in the cathedral. I never heard drums and cannon and the word of command in a mass before. The music was not military, but noisy figured. The occasion of the solemn mass was the feast of St. Maurice, patron of the Valais. After mass the Bishop walked with a great procession about the town, with a feretrum, with relics of St. Maurice. The chief part are at the town of the name, which we are to pass to-morrow. The procession had an excellent effect. I went then to the Jesuits' College, and spoke to the Rector, who told me the first I had heard of the attempt at revolution in the month of May here, which was defeated in a gallant style by the inhabitants of the Valais arming to the number of 10,000, from a population of 70,000, under an old French officer, _i.e._, a Swiss, trained in the French army, who repelled the party of the Jeune Suisse, who otherwise would have overturned religious order, and perhaps, as he said, have massacred all the religious. Young Bodenham was in their house when the danger threatened. The Rector was very kind, but did not promise much. I went then to dine at a _table d'hôte_, but soon got off, and went to the Bishop lately consecrated, who came from table to speak with me. He was educated at the Collegio Germanico; knew Baldacconi and Father Daniel. {331} He promised his help. I then went to a Capuchin convent outside the town. The guardian, a young man, was rather cold, but said meanwhile that he always prayed for England, as ordered in the Confrérie de l'Immaculé Coeur. Then to a convent of Ursulines, close to the Bishop's; eleven nuns (well received); then in a hurry to an hospital outside the town on the other side, with eight nuns. The director gave me one of my most favourable receptions, and promised that the nuns should change their day of communion from Friday to Thursday to meet my wishes. We set off at 2 for Martigny, which we reached at 5½. It has a different look from 1819, the year after the inundation. I called on the curé, who is one of the monks of Grand St. Bernard, with the white linen scapular to represent the surplice, which they always wear as canons regular of St. Augustine, to which they belong. He was very good about England. From thence, I went to an hospital kept by six French nuns, to receive poor travellers, female St. Bernardites. The Superioress was very agreeable and zealous. They are going directly to France to make their retreat with 600 other nuns, assembled under the Bishop of Belley. She promised to get him to recommend it to them all. I came back to tea after a happy, successful day (Hôtel de la Cigne). Alpine strawberries at tea.