¦S§i¥?;K ''S-' ¦S*/?"-' YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Gift of Frank L. VJarria 'L Uy__ pmNiEi) oy J SMITH. 16, rue Montmorency. EXCURSIONS SWITZERLAND. BY J. FENIMORE COOPER, ESQ. AUTHOR OF "THE PIL0T,» "THE SI'Y,» &c. PARIS, PUBLISHED BY A. AND W. GALIGNANI AND Co., RUE VIVIENNE, N" 18. 1836. YALE CONTENTS. LETTER I. Departure. — Accident to Postilion. — ^An old Frenchman. — Palace of Fontainebleau. — Auxerre. — Avalon . — Beautiful Scenery. — Dijon. — The Osages. .... 1 LETTER IL Genlis. — Mountain Ranges. — Auxonne. — Frontier Fortresses. — Distant View of Mont Bianc. — Ascent of the Jura. — Salins. — Novel Scenery. — Pontarlier. — ^Mountain Barrier. — Chateau de Joux. — Toussaint. — ^Napoleon. — Varying Scenery. — Frontier of Switzerland — Appearance of the Country. — Picturesque Valley. — ^Mountain Pass. — Val Travers. — Swiss Cottages. — Solitary Pe destrian. — Arrival at NeufchAtel. . . . >.) LETTER IU. Town of NeufchAtel. — Sublime View of the Alps. — Particulars re specting the Canton of Neufchitel. — Extensive Plain. — River ¦ Aar. — Aarberg. — Swiss Chateau. — Canton of Berne. — Excellence of the Roads — Arrival at Berne. . . . 20 LETTER IV. Berne. — Its History and Government. — Swiss Nobility. — True No bility. — Erroneous Notions of a Republic. . . -iO LETTER V. Country round Berne. — Public Promenades. — Buildings. — Popu lation. — Swiss Vehicle. — Agriculture. — Cattle Ranges. — Glea ners. — ^Hindelbank. — Hofwyl. — French and Swiss People. — Dis cover a Glacier. — Difficulty of conveying impressions of Grand Scenery. — Alps at Sunset. — Oberland Alps. — Works of European Travellers on America. S 1 LETTER VI. Proceed to Thun. — Grand-duchess Anna. — Town and Lake of Thun. — Excursion to the latter. — Castle of Spietz. — ^Respective Igno rance of Americans and Europeans. — The Jung Frau. — Neuhaus. — Unterseen. — Valley of Lauterbrunnen. — Fallot the Staubbach. — Town of Lauterbrunnen. — Ascent of the Oberland Alps. 42 LETTER VII. Grindewald. — Its Glaciers. — Mountain Music— The Eiger. — De parture for the valley of Meyringen. — Ascent of the Great Scheid- eck. — Mountain Cascades. — Valley of Meyringen. — Brientz.-^ River Aar. — Cascade of the Giesbach. — Interlachen. — Neuhaus. — Unterseen. — Return to la Lorraine — .Inhabitants of the Ober land. . .... .5'; LETTER VIII. View of the Alps. — Peak of the Wengern.— Burial-places of Berne. — Swiss-American Valley. — Goitres. — Drunkenness. — Pasquin ades on America. — Anecdote. — Germans in America. — Baths of Berne. — Scenery of America. . • • . (i7 Ti CONTENTS. PASS LETTER IX. Route to Soleure. — Town and Canton of Soleure.— Wayside Crosses. ^Female Costume. — Rites of the Romish Church. — Olteu. — ^A»r- berg. — Aarau — Baths of Schinznach. — Mountain of the Wiilpels- berg. — Town and Castle of Habsbourg. — Bruck. — Kcenigsfeld. — Baden. — The Rhine — Kaiserstuhl 73 LETTER X. Schaffhausen. — Banks of the Rhine. — Amateur Beggars. — The Zellersee. — Reichenau. — Constance. — Great Council Hall.— Huss's Cell. — Thurgovie. — Roschach. — Canton of St. Gall. — Rheineck. — Visit Austria. — Swiss Architecture. — The Rhine. — Reach Alstetten.— A Dilemma. — Youthful Beggars. — Naked Region. — Gais. — Teufen. — ^Town of St. Gall.— Polity of Appen- zell. — Herisau. — Lichtensteig. — ^Female Pilgrims.— Sublime Sce nery. — Reach Rapperschwyl 83 LETTER XI. Rapperschwyl. — Lake of Zurich. — Bridge. — Schwytz. — Sunday. — Scenery between Rapperschwyl and Zurich. — Town and Canton of Zurich. — Switzerland and America. . 105 LETTER XII. The Albis. — Zug. — Take a Boat for Art. — Democracy and Aris tocracy. — Village of Art, — Ruins of Goldau. — Pious Flirtation. — A Scene thoroughly Swiss. — " Our Lady of the Snows." — View from Righi Staffel — From the summit of the Righi Kulm. — Me lancholy Event.— German Swaggerers. — ^Sunrise. . 112 LETTER XIII. Descent. — Pilgrims. — Gessler and Tell. — Take a boat for Lucerne. — Remarkable Objects of that Town. — Lake of Sempach. — ^Ar nold de Winkelried. — Langenthal. — A hearty Innkeeper. — Er roneous Notions of Liberty. — Return to la Loraine. . . 125 LETTER XIV. Cantonal Courtesy. — Left Bank of the Aar. — Approach to Thun. — Power of opposing Invasion. — Proceed to Neuhaus. — An English Couple. — Unterseen. ^An Aristocratic Guide. — Panoramic View from the Riigen. — An English Girl. — Valley of Interlachen.— Brienz. — Waterfalls. — Monetary System. — View from the Briinig. — Lungern. — Polity of Unterwalden. — Imperfection of the Con federated System. — Church of St. Nicholas de Fliie. — Crosses. — Sarnen. — Mistaken for an Englishman. .... 137 LETTER XV. Stantz. — Female Costume. — Three Travellers. — Road to Stanztad. — ^Lake of Lucerne.— Stanztad. — Proceed by Boat towards Brun- nen. — Dangerous Positions for Dwellings. — Accident at Weggis. I — District of Gersau. — Brunnen. — The Griitli. — Walter Furst's Conspiracy. — Dangers of the Lake of Lucerne. — Town of Schwytz. — Scewen. — Catastrophe at Goldau. — ^Rotenthurm. — Alsacian Pil grims. — Pileof Buildings resembling St Peter's at Rome. . . 160 LETTER XVI. Traditions respecting the Shrine of Einsiedeln. — Superstition at tends the extreme Classes of Society. — Arrival of Pilgrims. — The Church. — Feelings of Devotion. — Rarity of Female Beauty. — Unseemly Ceremonies.— Opportunity of becoming Martyr. — Tem porary Chapels. — Extensive View. — ^Delightful Descent. — Hire a Char. — A dogmatic Waiter. — Canton of Glaris — Bishop of Coire. — Town of Glaris. — Schrabziegev Cheese. — Proceed to Wesen. 110 CONTENTS. vii PAes LETTER XVII. Country between the Lakes of Wallenstadt and Zurich. — Wesen. — Lake and Town of Wallenstadt.— Sargans.— Us Castle.— Route for Germany and Italy.— Change in the Course of the Rhine.— Ruins of Chateaux.— Deep Gorge.— Baths of Pfeffers. . 192 LETTER XVIIL Baths of Pfeffers. — Manner of using them. — Benefit received there from. — Leave the Baths. — View near the Abbey. — Principality of Liechtenstein.— Exquisite Spot.— Canton of the Grisons.— Pictu resque Sites. — Hire a Phaeton. — Coire. — German Companion. — Richenau.— Junction of the Upper and Lower Rhine. . 201 LETTER XIX. Depart for Source of the Rhine. — Unsophisticated Highway. — Un certain Route. — Effect of White Buildings. — A Wood-chopper. — Reach the Main Road. — Trins. — Flims. — Lax. — Lose our Way. Ilantz. — ^Language of the Grisons. — Barren Country. — Religion of the Grisons. — Trons. — Beautiful View. — Disentis. — A- Di^ lemma. — Rough Accommodation. — An "Interpreter." — Watch against Fire ... . . ?U LETTER XX. Abbey of Disentis — First Chateau 6f the Rhine. — Rejoined by 'Guide. — Reduced width of the Rhine —Jiif. — Deserted Valley, — — Snow Storm. — Change Functions with Guide. — The Ober Alp. — Sources of the great Swiss Rivers. — Novel View in descending the Mountain. — Hospital. — Andermatt. — Valley of Ursern. t— Price for a Guide.-i-The Reuss. — Gloomy Cave. — The Devil's Bridge. — Pass of the St, Gothard, — New Road, — Extraordinary Scenery. — Herds of Goats 219 LETTER XXI, Hospital. — Realp, — Ascent of the Furca, — Quick Descent, — View of the Oberland Range. — Stone Huts. — Canton of Valais. — The Gallenstock, — Glacier of the Rhone, — Solemn Spectacle. — Party of English. — Two grand Discoveries,— rSource of the Rhone. — Ascent of the Grimsel, — " Lake of the Dead." — The Hopital, — Sensation of Dreariness. — Gradual Descent. — Picturesque Stone Bridges, — Handeck. — Palls of the Aar. — Lines of Packhorses. — Reach Meyringen. .... . 230 LETTER XXII. A Discussion on West India Slavery. — Hire a Char for Brienz. — Interlachen.. — Chamois Hunters reach the summit of the Jung Frau. — Unterseen. — Galignani's Messenger. — The " Twelve Mil lions." — New Tariff. — Peculiarly in the English Character, — Its cause, — Policy of England. — Eifect of Vituperation. — English, American, and French Press. — Mr. Huskisson and Free Trade. — Fatigue of Sight-seeing, — Depart for Berne. — Lake of Thun, — Mercenary Soldiers.— Swiss Chivalry at Thun. — Perfidy of Voitu- rier.— Part with Guide. — La Lorraine. . . 239 LETTER XXIII. Time for seeing Switzerland, — ^Departure, — VIorat. — The Swiss Cressy. — Erratum in Ebel. — .indent Aventicum. — Roman Re mains. — Avenche. — Payerne. — Anecdote. — Bertha of Burgundy. — Start for Lausanne. — Swiss-American Landscape,. — Hire Voi- turier at Lucens,-r-Convers£|tion with a lively Vaudoise, — Euro pean Blunders. — Reach Lausanne. .... 251 LETTER XXIV. ¦Country near Lausanne, — The Town, — Unusual bustle. — Charles X, — Grand-duchess Helena and her Daughter, — Lake of Geneva, viii CONTENTS. PAGE — Port of Lausanne. — A mutual Recognition. — Democratic Atten tion to Royalty. — Democracy and Marks of Honour. — Anecdote. — Mr. 's Decorations. — Excursion on the Lake of Geneva. — Arbitrary Regulation, — Land at Geneva, , . 260 LETTER XXV. European Places of Interest. — Geneva. — Window-gazing. — The Port. — .\ Pensioned Steamboat — View from the Ramparts. — In terview with M. Simond. — Population and Government.-^Ferney: — Residence of Voltaire, — Church erected by him, — Interesting Fact connected with his Will. — Anecdote of a French Func tionary, — Return to Lausanne. — Outrage by Voiturier. — Proceed towards Berne. — Voiturier punished, after reaching la Lorraine. — Ancient Aventicum. . . 26^ LETTER XXVI. Preparations for a Journey Southward.— Agreement with Voi turier. — Climate of Switzerland and America. — .\dieu to la Lor^ raine, — Payerne. — Quails. — English Travellers, — ^Moudon. — An " Auberge inevitable." — Ravishing View. — Climate of Vevey. — Foraging Postilion. — Fairy Scene. — Feeling of calm Satisfaction. — An American Resident. — Castle of Chillon, — Trial of Speed with a Steamboat. — Villeneuve, . 280 LETTER XXVII. Road fromVilleneuve. — Bex. — Dent deMorcles — duMidi — Impor tant Pass. — St. Maurice. — The Cretins, — Reflections, — Inhabi tants of the Valais, — Curious Hermitage. — Feats of an Ancestor. — Accident by a "Sac d'eau." — Valley of the Rhone. — Waterfall. — Martigny. — Town of Sion. — Ravages of Nature. — Dreary Abodes. — Commencement of the Simplon. — Brig. — The Saltine. — Broad Vista, — Distances to places between Brig and Domo d'Ossola. . . 289 LETTER XXVIII. Departure fr6m Brig. — Ascent of the Simplon, — Lively Toll-house Woman, — Summit of the Simplon, — Descent to the Village of Simpeln. — Character of the Northern side of the Simplon. — Exag gerated Descriptions. — Descent from Simpeln. — The celebrated Galleries. — Peculiarities of the Simplon Road. — Grand Scenery. — Admirable Construction of Road. — ^Dangerous Cliffs. — Conti nued Descent. — Frontiers of Italy. — Populous Acclivity. — New Region. — Huge Column of Marble. — Groups in Holiday Attire. — Reach Domo d'Ossola. . . . 209 LETTER XXIX. Rumour of a Robbery on the Simplon. — Inquiries about it fruitless, — Scene of the outrage, — Shores of Lago Maggiore. — First im pressions of the Scene. — Delightful change of Climate. — Baveno. — The Borromean Islands. — Isola Bella. — Isola Madre. — Row down the Lake. — Leading Features of the Region. — Arena. — Statue of St. Charles Borromeo.- The Last of the Alps,— The Ticino. 311 LETTER XXX. The Plainer Lombardy. — Rich Cultivation, — The Church-towers. — The Populace, — Approach to Milan, — Impressions on entering the Town,— The Last Supper, by Leonardo da Vinci. — The Cathedral ofMilan. — Style of the building. — Its numerous Pinnacles and Sta tues. — Its great dimensions. — Inferiority of America in its Cities, — XHcwfrom the roofnfthe DuomoofMilan. — Adieu to Helvetia. .ilh PREFACE. The fragments of travels that are here laid before the reader are parts of a much more extensive work, that it was, originally, the intention of the writer to publish. This intention (for rea sons on which it is unnecessary to dwell) has been, in a great measure, abandoned ; though motives, that may possibly become apparent in the course otthe work, more especially in its second Part, have induced him to make the selection which is now printed. The narrative form is the best for a book of travels, for, be sides possessing the most interest, it enables the reader to un derstand the circumstances under which one, who appears as a witness, has obtained his facts. This form, therefore, has been adhered to here ; though il is hoped that the personal details have nowhere been permitted to trespass on the more material objects of the work. There is a certain peculiarity which all, who have seen miich of different countries, must have observed to exist everywhere, simply because it belongs to human frailty. No nation probably is to be found, in which the mass of the people do not believe themselves to be more highly endowed, with the better qualities of our nature, than any of their neighbours. It is one of the fruits of travelling to cure individuals of this weakness; but, in many cases, this cure is succeeded by a state of indiscriminating and generalizing indifference, on which those who are termed " men of the world" are a little too apt to pride themselves, mistaking it for liberality and philosophy — while, in fact, they X PREFACE. are nearly as far from the truth as when they were in the state of national complacency from which they have so lately emerged. Although communities are merely aggregations of human beings, they have their peculiar and distinctive traits, as well as indi viduals; and no account of nations can be of value, beyond de scriptions of material things, that has not consulted the circum stances which produce those modifications of character that make up the sum of national differences. In these volumes, however, little beyond descriptions of na tural objects has been attempted ; for Switzerland, enjoying pro bably the sublimest as well as the most diversified beauties of this sort that exist on the globe, would seem to have a claim to be treated sui generis. Man appears almost to sink to a secon dary rank in such a country, and the writer, in this portion of his travels, has gone little out of the way, to give him a place in the picture. The vacuum in the narrative, and the abrupt manner in which it is laid before the reader, demand a word of explanation. The year 1828 commenced by the writer in Paris. Thence the writer went early to England, returning, however, to France in June, by the way of Holland and Belgium. At Paris, after this return, the narrative of Part I. commences; terminating at Mi lan. The rest of the year 1828, and those of 1829, 1830, and 1831, with part of that of 1832, were passed between Italy (where the writer remained nearly two years), Germany, Bel gium and France. The narrative in Part II. recommences at Paris, after which it tells its own tale, up to a time when all the interests of the reader in the subject will most probably cease. Had the other portions of these letters been published, it is probable that their writer would not have escaped some imputa tions on his patriotism, — for, in making the comparisons that naturally arose from his subject, he has spoken in favour of American principles much oftener than in favour of American things; always, indeed, except in those instances in which his eyes gave him reason to think that the latter really deserved tha PREFACE. xi preference. Just and simple as this rule would seem to be, it is much too discriminating for a numerous class of American critics, who appear to think that a man must take-leave not only of his sense, but of his senses, in order to maintain the character of a faithful son of the soil. The superiority of Switzerland, in its peculiar excellence, however, is so generally admitted, that it is to be hoped one may actually venture to assert that a moun tain fifteen thousand feet high is more lofty than one of fifteen hundred, or that Mont Blanc is a more sublime object than Butter Hiin The writer does not expect much favour for the political opi nions that occasionally appear in these letters. He has the mis fortune to belong to neither of the two great parlies that divide his country, and which, though so bitterly hostile and distrust ful of each other, will admit ot no neutrality. It is a menacing symptom that there is a disposition to seek for a base motive, whenever a citizen may not choose to plunge into the extremes that characterize the movements of political faction. This be setting vice is accompanied by another feeling, so singularly op posed to that which everybody is ready to affirm is the governing principle of the institutions, that it may do no harm slightly to advert to it. Any one who may choose to set up a semi-official organ of public opinion, called a newspaper, however illiterate, base, flagrantly corrupt, and absolutely destitute otthe confi dence and respect of every man in Ihe community, may daily pour out upon the public his. falsehoods, his contradictions, his ignorance, and his corruption, treating the national interests as familiarly as " household terms," and all because he is acting in an admitted vocation; the public servant, commissioned to execute the public will, may even turn upon his masters and tell them not only in whatlight they are to view him and his conduct, but in what light they are also to view the conduct othis asso ciates in trust — in short, tell them how to make up their judgments on himself and others — and all because he is a public servant, and the public is his master : but the private citizen, xii PREFACE, who merely forms a part ot that public, is denounced for his presumption, should he dare to speak ot matters of general con cernment excq)l under such high sanction, or as the organ of party. It may be well to say at once, that this peculiar feeling has not been permitted to influence the tone of these letters, which have been written, in all respects, as it the republic did not con tain one of these privileged persons, honoured as " patriots" and " godlikes," but as if both classes were as actually unknown to the country as they are certainly unknown to the spirit and letter of its institutions. When the writer first arrived in Europe, he had occasion to remark, almost daily, the number and magnitude of the errors that existed in relation to the state of America. Allusions are occasionally made to this subject, in the course ot these letters, but not always with the same degree of surprise, or with pre cisely the same conclusion. The apparent discrepancies on this head, as well, perhaps, as on one or two other points ot opinion, have arisen as a natural consequence from the difference in the order of time. At the period when Part I. commences, the writer had been in Europe but two years ; whereas his visit al ready extended to six, before the journey related in Part II. was begun. It has been believed to be the fairest course to leave the impressions as they originally stood in his journal, or rather letters, tor many of Ihese letters were actually written at, or near, the period of their dates. As so much of Part II. relates to other countries besides Switzerland, the writer, lest some one, misled by the title he has selected, may feel disposed lo complain, deems it no more than fair to admit the fact in the Preface. Switzerland certainly is the leading point in the whole Work, and it has been thought sufficiently so to authorize the use of its name in the title-page EXCURSIONS SWITZERLAND. LETTER I. # Bepartute.— Accident tp Postilion.— An o]ld Frenchman. — Palace of Fon tainebleau.— r Auxerre. — Avalon, — Beautiful scenery. — Oijo;i. — 'fhe Osagel . It was a moment of glorious anticipation, when the car riage drove through the parte cochere, into the nee de Se vres, and we found ourselves fairly on the road to Switzer land ! Two seasons in Paris, and one in London, had shown us our fellows, to dull satiety ; and, apart from the delights of novelty, a common-place converse with men was about to give plaee to a sublime communion with nature. The recent journey thpough Holland, too, served to increase the satisfacT tion ; for it was like bringing the twojextremes of s0en|B?',y into the same pictune, to hurry thus from the most artificial and the tamest oi^ all landscapes thait has any pretensions t|a,)?j$^j{>ty, into the very presence of all that ip graad and m^gBificeBt in natural formation. The streetis of Paris seenafd interminable, nor do I think I breathed without restraijxt until, Ipaying the AurrUve du TroTie betiind us, we began to scour fjlong the highway towards Charenton. We passed the little brick edifice in which the gallant Henri IV. is said to have lodged la belle Oabrielle, and, descending the declivity to whose 1 2 DEPARTURE FROM PARIS, side the village clings, crossed the Marne, and were again in the country. It had rained a little in the morning, and, as what is called the gras de Paris is, in truth, the gras of all around Paris, the roads were greasy — I know no better word — and, for horses that are never corked, not entirely without danger. We were travelling limoniire, or, in other words, in the place of the pole, a pair of shafts had been attached to the carriage ; and our team was composed of three of the sturdy jVorman horses so well known on the French roads ; the postilion rid ing the near horse, with traces so long as to enable him to travel wide of the others, and to control the movement. This beast shpped and fell. Rolling over, he caught the leg of his rider beneath his body. The precious Gorcum coach, of which you have heard, was left in Paris on sale, as worthless, and a French travelling caliche had been purchased in its place. The latter had a dickey and a rumble. I was seated on the former when the accident happened. Jumping down, the horses were backed, and the postilion, who lay quite help less, was enabled to extricate his limb. The poor fellow mut tered a few sacr-r-r-es, made a wry face or two, and limped back into the saddle. At the next relay he still walked, but with difiiculty. .4t Melun this accident became the subject of conversation among the postilions and stable-boys, most of whom were men of la noTtvelle France ; or youths who no longer adhere to the prejudices of their fathers, and who adnnire the new phi losophy and the new-fashioned boots. There was, however, a solitary relic of the ancien regime present, in the person of an old man, who wore a powdered club as thick as a large beet-root, and whose whole air had that recherche character, that always distinguishes the Frenchman of 1 786 from him whose proper element appears to be revolution. The old man listened to the account Of the tumble with great gravity ; nor did he utter a syllable until he had satisfactorily ascer tained that no bones had been broken. Then, approaching PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU. 3 \vith a politeness that would be deemed ultra at Washington, he inquired if " Mohsieur knew whether the postilion, who had met with the fall, wore the ancient or the modern boot?" When told the former, he turned to his noisy revolutionary comrades, with a grimace replete with sarcasm, and cried, " Aha ! voyez-vous, nies enf'ans-^les anciennes modes ont aussi leur merite ! " The old man was right. But for the celebrated boot at which travellers are so apt to laugh, it is probable that the limb would have snapped like a pipe-stem. When one sees the manner in which French horses go skating along the slip pery roads, he understands, at once, the whole mystery of this extraordinary part of a postilion's equipments. We intended to look at Fontainebleau, and it was yet early when we drove into the forest, which, by the way, will not compare with that of Compiegne, of which you have already bad some account. The town, like nearly every other French country town, is of no great beauty or cleanliness, though, perhaps, a little better than common, as respects the latter property. We ordered dinner and hastened to the cha teau. This palace was pi^lncipally built by Francis I, in the well- known style of his age — a sort of French-Elizabethaii archi tecture. It has not been much frequented since the accession of the Bourbons, though Henry IV, the first of that line,* was * Every one knows that the French crown descends in the male line only. In 1270, Louis IX, commonly called St, Louis, was on the throne. This king left many sons : the eldest, as a matter of course, succeeding. The sixth and youngest, was Robert, Comte de Clermont; who married the heiress of the Baron de Bourbon, one of the great nobles of the kingdom. In 1327, Louis de Clermont, their son, was created Due de Bourbon, and Peer of France. In the 14th century, Anthony Due de Bourbon, the head of this branch of the royal family, married the heiress of the little kingdom of Navarre, and assumed, in his own person, the title of king. By the deaths of the three brothers, Francis II, Charles IX, and Henry III, Henry, King of Navarre, became the head of his family, and mounted the throne of France, as Henry IV, in 1589. He was, of course, the first sovereign of the family of Bourbon, through always of the ancient race. He was related, by the male line, or by that line which carried title, only in the 21st degree to his predecessor, though there had been many intermarriages. By the female he 1 • .1 PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU. accustomed to pass some of his time at it. It is scarcely royal, except in extent, having but few magnificent rooms, and I think none that are in very good taste, — at least, none such were shown to us. The principal apartment was a Salle de Dia7ie, a gallery of some size, but of more tawdriness than taste. Of course, we saw the rooms of Napoleon, the table of abdication, and the leg that was kicked. I was more struck with the imperial wash-basin, than with anything else. It was of truly regal dimensions. The emperor appears to have been a connoisseur in this piece of furniture, for this was the fourth or fifth of his wash-basins I have seen and coveted, all being of most enviable dimensions ; though I have never yet been able to find their pendants in any shop, except in the shape of punch-powls. The rooms occupied by Pius VII. are large, airy, and commodious — the best, indeed, in the palace; though far from being either rich or regal. was closely connected with the three last kings. Three hundred and nine teen years elapsed between the death of St. Louis and the succession of his descendant Henry IV. The Prinees of Condfi were descended from a Due de Bourbon, the grandfather of Henry IV ; and the Princes of Conti were descended from the Princes of Cond§. The princes of Conti have been extinct for some time, but the last Prince of CondS (the father of the Due d'Enghein) committed suicide in 1830. He was the cadet of the house of Bourbon, tracing his descent, in the male line, to no king nearer than St. Louis, or through an interval of 560 years. The house of Orieans branched olF from Louis XIII. in 1643, or 187 years before its accession. Louis XIV, the grandson of Henry IV, succeeded in placing his second grandson, Philippe d'Anjou, on tl>e Spanish throne. From him are de scended (always in the male line, none other counting in this family until the recent accession of Donna Isabella II,) the sovereigns of Spain, and Naples, and the Duke of Lucca, who stands next in reversion to the Duchy of Parma. It follows that Louis-Philippe I, of France, is the youngest prince of his family, his own children excepted, according to the order of primo geniture ; Charles X, the Dauphin, the Duo de Bordeaux, all the Spanish, Neapolitan, and Lucchese princes coming before him. When the other powers of Europe consented to the accession of Philippe of Anjou to the throne of Spain, they conditioned with Louis XIV, his grandfather, that he should renounce, for himself and his successors, all claims to that of France. Louis signed the treaty, but protested, at the time ; saying, that the rights of primogeniture were a fundamental law of the monarchy, and that no head of the family could bind a successor to their relinquishment. AUXERRE.— AVALLON. 5 1 did not like the little we saw of the gardens. It is not an easy matter to make trees and water and verdure disagreeable to the eye; but it would be quite easy to make their combi nation more agreeable than it is found to be here. One or two vistas, into the forest, too, were anything but successful. There was one gallery filled with busts, that looked more like a travelling exhibition of wax-work, thaii anything of the kind I remember to have seen. Washington's head was among them. We did not see the room that was the scene of the tragedy of Monaldesebi. It was described to us as being beneath the aforesaid Salle de DioTie. What a revolution in opi nions, since the days when a queen who had abdicated, dared to cause a follower, and he not a natural born subject, to be executed in tho palace of a prince, of whom she was merely a guest! We left the chateau by its great court, an area of some two or three acres, in which the grass was literally growing; a certain proof that the palace was not in favour; for of all probable events, I take it, grass would be the least likely to grow beneath the feet of courtiers. Courtiers and dema gogues, you know, are my especial aversion. They are animals of the same genus, classed in different species by the accidents of position. The next day we posted on, leisurely, to Auxerre, passing the Yonne at its celebrated bridge. This river, a stream of the size of the Mohawk, murmured before the door of the inn where we lodged. We were now quite without the influence of Paris, and ef fectually in the provinces. The real rusticity of France, to say the truth, is very rustic ! The country was begining lo be vine-growing, and, for a great relief, it became decidedly uneven. Rain — rain — rain. I stuck to the dickey, however, to the last, and was compelled to stop at a place called Aval- Ion, with a sfight cold and fever. An hour's rest subdued the latter, but it was determined to pass the third night where fi UN GRAND. we were, or at the distance of only twenty-seven posts from the capital. This was not hurrying on towards the great object of our destination, certainly ; but then the ^landlady gravely assured us, the environs of the place were not only called, but were moreover worthy to be called la petite Suisse. We wasted an hour in looking at the faubourgs, which were pretty enough, but which were much farther from Swit zerland in character, than in distance. Our salon at the inn was decorated with pictures, emblematical of different coun tries. One was a belle of fair hair and rosy cheeks ; another, a belle of raven locks and pencilled eyebrows ; a third, a belle of brown ringlets and azure orbs. Les Etats Unis were particularized in the person of — to use the southern verna- cular-:-a wench, as black as a coal! If it were possible to take the sense of the people of Europe on the subject, I am persuaded it would be found that nine out of ten believe the Americans are anything but white. You may remember the account I have given you of our residence on the banks of the Seine, in a small country-house that was once a sort of hunting lodge of Louis XV. One day, while in the grounds, overlooking the gardener, a servant ran to in form me that the carriage of " S07i excellence^' the American minister, had driven into the court. He was told to return, and to say I would join " son excellence" in a few minutes. " Monsieur I'ambassadeur,'" said honest Pierre, the garde ner, " est un gra7id .*" I told him he stood six feet four inches, English, in his stockings. Pierre had seen him one day, on the boulevards at Paris. Curious to know how the minister could have been recognised, under such circum stances, I delayed paying my respects to " son excellence^' another minute, in order to inquire. Pierre had taken an interest in America, on account of our relations, and had learned, in the course of his gossiping, that the minister was " 7m grand" and meeting a strapping negro on the boule vards, he jumped to his conclusion. These things sound odd BEAUTIFUL SCENERY. 7 to us, and I can remember the time when I used to set them down as traveller's wonders, but, believe me, they are reli giously true. From Avallon, the country became more pleasing, and, occasionally — a rare quality in France — it approached the picturesque. La belle Fra7ice ought to be construed into la France utile; for the beautiful in this sense means no more than the beautiful of a husbandman ; that is to say, easy to plough, and well ploughed. One league of the road I well remember, for it was the first really beautiful bit of natural scenery I had then met with in the country. There was a deep and bold valley, a curious geological formation of rock, and a tumbling water-course. All this was greatly aided by a hamlet, half buried in trees, which stood on a sort of promontory, and which terminated in a ruin ; woods finely scattered, and the temporary disap pearance of vineyards : for the vine, though so high-sounding and oriental in the pages of a book, like the olive, invariably lessens the beauty of a country, except it fringes mountain- terraces, where, indeed, both help to make up the sum of the picturesque, though quite as much through association as through the eye. In the course of the last day, we had more than once seen cows at work in the plough, and, in one instance, we saw a woman added to the team. The country physicians, too, with their saddle-bags and hardy roadsters, had a rural look. If you had travelled through endless lines of nearly leafless trees ^ over paved roads, and athwart open wastes covered with stubble, unrelieved by even a house, except those which are crowded into dirty, squalid, monotonous villages, for leagues — leagues — leagues, you would know how to prize the ap pearance of even an apothecary on horseback 1 Most of these traveUing leeches, I observed, had holsters ; but whether they contained pistols, or something more dangerous, I could no ascertain. 8 THE OSAGES. We reached Dijon, the ancient, storied capital of Burgundy, in good time for dinner. The Osages, of wh6m I spoke in a former letter, had preceded us, and were making a sensa tion. I believe, however, I forgot to give you the history of this portion of our red brethren. They had been induced by a Frenchman to come to. Europe on a speculation. As this motive was altogether too vulgar to be opetily attributed to men who were to pass for wdrriors and heroes, it was varied according to circumstances. With the pious, they bame for the good of their souls ; with the refined, to get a few hints on civilization ; and with the political, to lay the ground-work of future allianeies, agaiiist the day when they were to wage war on the Americans ! Absurd as the latter may seem, I have been distinctly told it, and believe it to be true. It is not an easy matter to make an American who has never been abroad comprehend the great ignorance of our situation which pre vails all over Europe ; — I know nothing to which it can be s6 aptly compared, as it may be to the ignorance of Europe which exists all over America. I was shown, at Paris, a me morial addressed to the French government by the speculator in question, in which he laid great stress on the benefit France might anticipate from a trade with this powerful tribe ; a trade that-, every one knows, cannot taike place so long as this re pubhc holds its present anthority over the territory they oc cupy. Mrs. , a countrywoman of ours, who circulated freely in high Frtench society, related to me ah amusing contre-temps that occurred to herself, in connexion with these very Osages. She was making a morning call, and speak ing French fluently, was not recognised by another visiter, who had just come from the levee of these gentlemen. The latter was voluble in their praises, and from ektolling their paiht, big ears, and tomahawks, she had got as far as the ul terior political views, connected with a visit to France, when she was stopped by the mistress of the house, who did know Mrs. , and thought the other indiscreet. The latter had DIJON— GENLIS. » got SO far, before she wis stopped, however, as to have ex patiated on the warm iittachitient of the travelling heroes to France, and on their utter detestation of the Aroerieans.* Dijon has some remains of the middle ages 5 but of what interest are such things to one who is within forty leagues of Switzerland, and who is Actually in sight of the Jura ? LETTER II. Genlis. — Mountain Ranges.-i-Auxonne. — Frontier Fortresses. — Distant view of Mont Blanc. — ^Ascent of the Jura. — Salins. — Novel Scenery. — Pontarlier. — ^Mountain Barrier. — Chifeau de Joiix.— Toussaint. — ^Napo leon.' — Varying Scenery. — Frontier 6( Switzerlaild — Appearance of the Gountry.-— Pictur'esque Valley. — ^Mountain Pass. — Val Travers.— Swiss Cottages. — Solitary Pedestrian. — Arrival at NeulchStel. My DtAR , This was the 1 7th of July 1 828, and on the 18th July 1826 we first put foot in France. We were about to quit it that day two years. liow much is there to admire in that great country; how mucb to shut the eyes to in disgust! The first relay, after qiiitting Dijon, was at an insignificant hamlet, called Genlis. Struck by the name, and by the sight of a lierd of itations, from the chateau to the chdlet. U4 THE RINTHAL. A great many churches, also, appear picturesquely perched on beautiful sites. Globular or baUoon-shaped steeples are getting lo be so common, that I almost fancy we are farther east than the truth will warrant , some of them actually look ing mosque-like. A raft floated down the Rhine this afternoon, managed by two men. It had come seventy miles. The wonder is, that these waters are so little used. I do not think we have yet seen twenty boats, skiffs excepted, on this great river. The lake, it is true, was pretty well garnished with canvass, but not in the way it might be, and would be with us. The mistaken policy of giving employment, by means of accidental imper fections, pervades Europe ; ay, even England. Why is there no canal around the falls of the Rhine ? Parallel to the stream, and moving in its direction, we have passed huge waggons, with six, and eight, and ten horses, buried in harness, with great brass plates, some of which we were told had come from the Tyrol, and might have been going to BMe, or pos sibly to America ; for such things do happen. Our inn, be sides being so comfortable,, and clean, and good, proved also to be unusually cheap. There is a satisfaction in finding that a grasping cupidity has not penetrated to a spot like this, that has no connexion with the purse. We departed again, with the dawn. The Rinthal proved to be a broad valley, and the Rhine itself, at this point, a wide and .shallow stream. It no longer flowed with the steady majesty we had so much admired below the lake, though it was much too wide to be termed a torrent ; sandbanks and beds ofgravel occasionally appeared in the centre of the stream, and, except in velocity, its character was altogether changed. Even the colour of the water was more like that of the mountain streams than the cerulean blue of the ocean. From Schaffhausen to Constance, its course had been west; il now flowed north; and for half the distance between Kaiserstuhl to Scaffhausen its direction had been south. As we were ascending its current, of course our own roUte was always towards the opposite points of the compass. A DILEMMA. 9.5 The river flows through wide flats, winding from one side of the valley to the other, the low land being covered with maize, hemp, meadows and orchards, and the hill-sides with vineyards. Little other grain was visible. The girls were tambouring in the morning air, under the apple-trees. They were very generally pretty, and of more delicate forms than the Oberland beauties. Oxen and horses were frequently harnessed side by side ; and the waggon-wheels continued to be of the same size, or so nearly so as to render the difference nearly imperceptible. We reached Alstetten to breakfast. It is a quaint, small, and old town, at the foot of the Am Stoss, with many of the painted bouses I have described, and wide wooden arcades in the principal street. Here we encountered a serious diffi culty; we could not make ourselves understood. Our Ger man was by no means classical ; and English, Italian, and French, were all Hebrew to the good people of the inn. The coachman was from one of the Bernese valleys, and spoke habitually as pure a patois as heart could wish. But evea his patois would not do; for the patois of the district would own no fellowship with that of this linguist. In this dilemma I was thrown upon the language of nature. It was not difficult lo make the hostess understand that we wished to eat. Cafe, as good luck wUl have il, like "revolu tion," is a word of general use in these luxurious limes. So far, all was well — but "what would we eat?" We were sufficiently hungry to eat anything; but how was one lo express "anything" by signs?, It might be interpreted so easily into " everything !" In this Crisis I bethought me of a long-neglected art, and crowed like a cock. The shrill scientific strain had hardly reached the ear of the good woman, before it was answered by such a peal of laughter as none but village lungs could raise. W , who is an admirable mimic, ran after the convulsed party, (two or three girls had been anxiously awaiting the result), and began quite successfully^ lo cackle like a hen. He was answered by 90 THE AM STOSS, screams that I think must have fairly ascended the Am Sloss. In due time, we had a broiled fowl, an omelette, and boUcd eggs; but to the last moment none of the 'women-kind' could look at us without hearty bursts of merriment. To be sure, it was droll enough to hear hunger bursting out spontane ously in these paroxysms of natural eloquence. We left the inn on foot, the coachman deeming it neces sary lo hire horses to drag the empty carriage up the moun tain; his own finding it work enough to drag themselves after it. It was the steepest ascent I ever encountered on a highway, for so great a distance. The road was very good, but of a matter-of-fact kind that did not condescend to make material sinuosities. We were more than two hours in walking to the summit. The views were extremely fine from various points of the ascent. The valley of the Rhine was visible far away; Alstetten lay at our feet; in Austria were villages, baths, churches, and chdteaux, as usual; and our own mountain side was dotted with cottages. The Vorarlberg presenteda sublime grouping of dark stalely mountains, with retiring valleys, up which the eye penetrated leagues. Most of the road we had travelled that morning lay like a line beneath the Swiss hills. The fields near us were verdant, enclosed, and neat. . Beggars had been a blot on the scenery for the last day or two; nor did it appear that they asked so much from neces sity as in the way of speculation, for they often laughed in our faces when refused. We had paused, lo rest ourselves, on tbe side of this mountain, when two or three children came scrambling from a cottage, on the usual errand. The oldest could not have been five, and the youngest was scarce ly two years old. The last was an infant of rare beauty ; fair, with the eyes of an angel, and perfectly golden hair. She hterally wore no covering but an apron. The little che rub plaintively lisped, as she approached, as near as we could understand, " pity, pity." I put a small piece of coin into the extended hand, when she immediately raised the other, A NAKED REGION, 97 with her " pity, pity."* We gave each a trifle, and away they scampered, screaming with delight. The cottage from which these little beggars came was extremely neat, had a comfort able air, and the mother witnessed all that passed from a window. The parent that initiates her daughters thus early in the arts of mercenary entreaty, is in great danger of seeing them in later life the victims of their own practices. Indeed, the reflecting and intelligent Swiss admit that the great influx of strangers is rapidly demoralizing the country, particularly that portion of it which is best formed by nature to foster the higher moral qualities. Men are so constructed, that they wiU turn the picturesque into profit, and even women too. We met a waggoner driving down one of the steepest pitches of this mountain, on a quick trot, fast asleep in his waggon. One wheel, it is true, was locked ; but such is the force of habit, that neither the master nor his cattle seemed in the least to mind the descent. At the summit of the Am Stoss is a small chapel and an inn . The former, I believe, is to commemorate a victory, and the latter is pretty sure to catch all the traveUers who ascend. Here, an entirely new scene burst upon us. In the valley most the objects already mentioned were stiff visible, while before us lay a prospect unUke anything we had yet seen. We were on a sort of elevated plain, or vale, that was sprinkled with cottages of a truly Swiss aspect, treeless and almost shrubless, and which was shorn as close as scythe could cut, and which it did not seem that the ploughshare had ever stirred. I dare say the latter fact is not so ; but I can only compare tbe whole to the appearance of freshly- mown lawns, divided by rustic fences, and dotted with rural habitations, that seemed lo be placed without any order in the middle of delicate meadows. So " shaven and shorn" a region I never before witnessed. The distant hills had some wood, it is true; but I question if there were twenty stunted * Greater acquaintance with the German has since shown me that the little thing merely uttered the common entreaty of " biffe, hitfe," or " pray do." 7 98 GAIS.— TEUFEN. trees in sight in the two or three square leagues of the table land. Comparing the effect of quitting the orchards and fer tility of the Rhinthal to all this nakedness, it was like going from a ballet to a meeting of the Shakers. After trotting over an excellent road, through this exquisite nakedness, for two miles, we reached a little ascent. Here we took leave of the Vorarlberg mountains, and caught a near look at Gais, the village which gives its name to the dis trict. I ought to have said that we entered the canton of Appenzell near the chapel at the summit of the Am Stoss. Gais lies in one of the little dales, into which the country now became broken. A livelier bit of still life is not often seen. There may be a hundred houses scattered over the lawn-like meadows, with no great attention to regularity. They are of various colours, and the church was spacious and white. Everything was as neat as Broek itself Naked earth was nowhere visible, the narrow road and a few winding footpaths excepted. No cattle — no trees — no grain — scarcely any shrubs — for miles. Nothing but meadows as closely cut as velvet, houses that looked like large boxes laid carelessly on enormous grass carpets, and a road that was just wide enough, and quite good enough, for a park. After passing Gais, the country became more broken, and we began lo descend. Trees now reappeared, especially the apple. Here and there was a hedge. At Teufen we saw another remarkable village ; the houses being quaint and of various colours, as well as faultlessly neat. In the gable of one I counted six rows of little windows, none much larger than those of a coach. Pea-green, white, and lead colour were the favourite hues. Tinted Manhattan ! how art thou shamed and outdone by this nameless hamlet ! All the cattle were most probably on the upper pastures at this season, the whole region here appearing to be meadow. After quitting Teufen, we descended rapidly by a wild ra vine; but before entering it from one point there was a dist.ant glimpse of the lake of Constance. St. Gail was now ST. GALL. 99 re-entered by its own appropriate valley ; and we were again transferred into an entirely new region. These sudden transitions are sometimes nearly magical, and always plea sant, no country offering greater variety of scenery, or a greater variety of artificial objects, in spaces so small. The town of St, Gall was seated in a rich bottom. There was an air of wealth about it which took us by surprise, the suburbs giving every evidence of an extensive industry. The environs abounded with manufaeturing establishments, and the green acclivities were covered with fine musfins, bleaching. The place seemed much larger than Constance. It contains, in fact, about ten thousand inhabitants. In short, in this retired vaUey, we found a town with more of the appearance of business than any we bad yet seen in Switzerland, not even excepting Berne. It is a neat little city, surrounded by an cient walls, the ditches of which are converted into gardens. St. GaH, a town and canton, derives its political existence from a holy hermit of this name, who was a Scot. In the sf^enth century, Pepin de Heristal, Mayor of the Palace, in France, founded an abbey which was called after the ancho rite. This abbey pretended to have been the repository of learning for three centuries, during that long and dark period when kings and nobles sometimes deemed it a disgrace to know how to read and write. Its library was one of the largest extant, and we are said to be indebted to its riches for the works of several of the Latin authors. At a later day, the children of the emperors and of the neighbouring princes were sent here to be educated. Towards the year 1200, however, St. Gall lost its character for learning, throngh the cupidity and ambition of its abbots, who had become little territorial sovereigns, wielding the sword on favourable oc casions. They have left behind them warhke names, even in this warlike region. The abbots having been raised to the dignity of princes of the empire, this sort of government con tinued, with the usual quantum of victories, defeats, rebel lions, and other pious abominations, nntU tbe great political changes of 1798, when their temporal authority was over- 100 ST. GALL. thrown. The monastery itself was entirely suppressed, by the obstinacy of its abbot, in 1805. The town of St. Gall was at first a dependency of tbe ab bey, owing its origin to the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table. In process of lime, its people, serfs of course in that age, purchased their freedom from the monks, obtained franchises from the emperors, and became burghers. They had a bad neighbourhood with the monks, and matters pro ceeded to such extremities, that about two centuries since they built a high wall between the abbey edifices and the town, most probably to keep the holy celibates at home at night. Previously to this, the burghers had made an alliance with the Swiss cantons, and were in fact, if not by legal right, independent of the abbots. At the close of the seventeenth century, this independence was formally acknowledged by treaty. I have given you this little outline of clerical history, as cu rious in itself, and because it contains tbe same elements as the histories of all the littie religious governments of Swilzet- land, of which formerly there were several, that have left behind them deep impressions of their origin. We visited the deserted buildings of the abbey, passing through the celebrated wall, which is stiff standing. The church is large, highly ornamented, and in good repair. It is a cathedral, I believe ; at any rale, there is a bishop, who passes his time between this place and the Grisons. The altars of the church are more elaborated than any we have yet seen, not excepting those of Belgium, though wanting in the fine pic tures of the latter country. Cherubs, in high relief, abound, the walls looking fairly alive with them. There are pictures, too, but none, I beUeve, of much reputation. All this has taken us by surprise, for we expected neither the evidences of industry, nor those of the ancient magnificence of the monks. We did not enter the deserted monastery. On leaving St. Gall, we journeyed down the valley, cross ing a stupendous bridge, that would have done credit to the environs of Paris, and re-entered Appenzell. The drive for APPENZELL.— HERISAU. 101 the remainder of the day was through a pastoral and manu facturing district, cattle reappearing, but still no signs of grain. We ascended a little, and reached Herisau, one of the capitals of the canton, just as the day closed. I say, one of the capi tals, for several of the Swiss cantons, whUe they have but a single vote in the national Diet, are subdivided into entirely distinct governments within themselves. Appenzell is of the number, being divided into the Protestant and Catholic dis tricts, or Rhodes, as they are technically termed. The first is the wealthiest, the most industrious, and the most populous ; the latter being purely — I might say eminently — pastoral. Both polities are pure democracies, the people enacting the laws in their original assemblies. This system, however, has some checks, but no balances — you know my theory on the important distinction between the two — in the councils, which exercise a species of veto. In the Protestant Rhode, all males of sixteen have a voice, and in the Catholic, all males of eighteen! This is surpassing our own country, where preco city is rather rife, and boys get to be men with surprising fa cility. In a community of ,50,000 mountaineers, in the centre of Europe, where every musket counts, and where the interests lo be controlled are chiefly confined lo the pasture and the dairy, this arrangement, however, may do weU enough, Herisau is a neat and striking littie town, in which there is a mixture of the ancient and of the modern Swiss architec tures. Manufactures aided by a fire have been parents lo the latter. You may form some idea of the former, by the fol lowing description of our inn, which is strictly of the old school. We occupy the principal floor, to reach which we have ascended two low flights of steps. Our parlour is seven feet high, twenty long, and fifteen wide. They are seven windows, all on one side, and each window has six panes of glass. The outside shutters rise, like coach-blinds. That part of the room is covered with curtains; for, luckily, they manufacture cot ton here. 102 TOCKEMBOURG.— LICHTEISfSTEIG. I have observed several houses to-day with six windows in the gables, these gables being usuaUy the front of the build ing. The arrangement of one of them was as follows:^ — There is a single window in the apex, or garret; then came a row of three, and a row of five. These are all within the roof. A row of seven and one of nine were in the frame, and a row of eight was in the stone-work of the foundation. The whole height from the ground to the pinnacle of the roof, might have been forty-two or three feet. The public square of Herisau, like that of Gais, is exceed ingly neat and pleasing. Two ruins appeared on hills near the former place, but they promised little. We did not leave Herisau until after seven, on account of rain. The road led us through an undulating mountain-re gion, descending, however, on the whole. We soon reached the frontier of this little republic, once more entering its grasp ing neighbour, St. Gall. Cattle were more numerous, and here and there we saw the signs of grain. The ancient county of Tockembourg (at present in St. Gall) was the next district, and the country ceased to be as peculiar as that lately traversed. It is of another kind, altogether, aud yet in almost any other part of the world, even this valley would be deem ed very remarkable. : We met, this morning, four different parties of W- 's (/.inateur beggars. AU of them had knapsacks stuffed lo over flowing, and they were, ip general, sleek, well-fed, and sturdy. Begging, whatever may be its temporary conveniences, is but a questionable mode of commencing life. We reached Lichtensteig to breakfast. It is well placed in a very pretty valley, and has a convent,'with a chateau at a little distance. Bleaching grounds and manufactories are seen in all these viUages. "Very pretty," too, in Switzer land, you will remember, means something more than com mon. Indeed, when fairly among the mountains, there is scarcely a spot in the whole country that has not something remarkable; for if you even happen lo find yourself in a com- WAT WYL.— CHATEAUX. 103 mon-place " bit," nine times in ten the eye may get a distant look al snow-clad summits, and the wild grandeur of the Alps. The people of the inn manifested unusual interest in us, when they discovered we were Americans. Some of their friends had emigrated. They told us that the Catholics and Protestants of the village use the same building, resorting to it at different hours. A woman hero gains about eighteen cents a day by embroidering, and yet^lhe superior wealth and comfort enjoyed in the manufacturing districts, over those which are purely agricultural, is visible at a glance. The valley of Watwyl is beautiful, the viUage very neat and flourishing; and there are, as usual, a convent and a cha teau; charming accessaries to the landscape, especially to those who merely trot through the place. The castle is said to be the only one which stiU takes rank inthe Tockembourg, where formerly there were nineteen. That at Lichtensteig is probably converted into a manufactory, a fate that has be fallen half the chAteaiix of the Continent, and is still likely lo befall the other half We have not yet seen a chdteau in the course of construction in all our travels, nor even a great pri vate hotel, in any town ! Royal residences alone form ex ceptions to the rule. Does not this prove that "the age of bargaining is come?" — and yet there are men so blind to the signs of the times, that they wish lo see tbe civil institutions which have come down to us through the oppressions of feu dality, renewed even in countries where more modern facts have gotten the ascendancy. Men of this perverted state of feeling exist even in our own land, where potent and majestic facts are dragging opinions after them, wriggling and reluc tant, like tails dangling to kites. But selfishness is obliged to wear a mask, and new combinations are becoming neces sary to enable the few to make the most of the many. • Al the end of the valley of Watwyl, we had to obtain an extra horse for the mountain. While waiting its appearance, melodious female voices were heard, repeating aves, on dif ferent keys. Presently three women appeared, coming down 104 SUBLIME SCENERY. the road, and counting their beads, each taking up the prayer in turn. They were on a short pilgrimage to some neigh bouring shrine. Such a group added greatly lo the charms of a country, which has always appeared to me like a vast natural altar, reared expressly in honour of God. After lolling up a heavy ascent, and crossing a mountain top,wecame to a point on the opposite side, which commanded a view, that I took the pains lo describe on the spot, with the top of the carriage for a desk. I give it you, as a specimen of that admixture of the wild and the beautiful that so con stantly occurs in Switzerland. > Fields and woods, diversified like a park, covered the broad mountain side, or the foreground of the picture, to Ihe level of the valley. A rich and wide bottom spread itself beneath. The lake of Zurich stretched far away to the right, and on the left, gigantic mountains raised their summits into the regions of eternal snow. Everything was on a scale of com mensurate breadth and sublimity. The opposite side of the valley was a long range of magnificent Alps, holding on their broad breasts hamlets, cottages, and fields, with a noble back ground of hoary peaks. Fleecy clouds rested here and there, on the masses of verdure, rendering the deep hue of Ihe larches more lustrous and dark. The town of Rapperschwyl, which resembles a quaint ragged castle, was in relief against the lake, and churches, villages, and isolated dwellings were sprinkled profusely on every side, far and near. In the im mediate foreground, a monastery was seated on a high green spur of the mountain, overlooking all these glories with re ligious calm. As we descended, the view opened toward the south, and the glen opposite expanded to a deep but broad valley, which contains the canton and town of Glarus. A mountain near it was girt by a belt of vapour, at half its height, the upper edge of the mist being drawn as truly as if cut by a knife. 'It looked like a halo encircling the moon. Objects constantly grew more and more distinct, until skiffs that al first had been sivallo\vcd by distance, assumed the appearance of specks. USNACH.— RAPPERSCHWYL. 105 then of birds, and finaUy were seen skimming the water. In the end we distinguished the blades of their oars flashing in the sun. Here, for the first time, our eyes were greeted with the sight of that famous little state which has given its name to the Confederation, the' mountains opposite forming the northern boundary of Schwytz,* which comes to the shores of the lake. At the foot of the descent, we passed Usnach, a walled village, when the remainder of our day's drive lay on the margin of the water. We hurried on, and stopped at a very good inn, the Paon, just without the gates of Rapper schwyl. LETTER XI. Rapperschwyl. — Lake of Zurich..— Bridge. — Schwytz. — Sunday. — Scenery between Rapperschwyl and Zurich. — Town and Canton of Zurich.— Switzerland and America. Dear , I WALKED into Rapperschwyl alone, next morning, at an early hour. The position and external appearance of this little town are very remarkable. It stands on a small elevated peninsula, and its narrow limits have blended cha teau, towers, churches, houses, and walls together, in a way to give to the whole the air of one huge and quaint edifice. It was formerly the residence of a sovereign count, and the disparity between the warlike and baronial, and the more humble and useful, is very apparent ; though both are on a scale suited lo the simple habits of mountaineers. Straitened as it is for room, there is a tolerably large square in the centre, most probably an ancient Place d'Armes. ' Or Schweitz ; or, Schwitz ; pronounced Schweitz, as in height. 106 LAKE OF ZURICH.— BRIDGE. The lake of Zurich is divided into what are called the up per and lower lakes, the former being much the largest. This division is produced by the peninsula of Rapperschwyl, and by a long tongue of low land which projects halfway across the water, or at least a mile, directly opposite. Ebel had informed me, that Leopold of Austria caused a bridge to be made connecting these two points, in 1358; and my eyes had told me, in descending the mountain the previous evening, that this bridge, or a successor, still existed. I walked through the town, therefore, taking the direction to the water. A toll was demanded at the end of the bridge. This an cient structure — ancient after the fashion of vineyards, in which the vines are periodically renewed — this ancient struc ture occupies the second rank in the gradations of bridge building ; the first, I take it, being the common American ex pedient of laying logs on sleepers. Il is made of low bents, or framed gaUowses, with three rows of sleepers, and planks that are kept in their places by string-pieces weU pinned down. With a slight exception, there is no railing, and the whole is only twelve feet wide. The bridge is not straight, but it forms two obtuse angles, having probably been made to vary from the true line on account of the depth of the Avaler. Three hundred yards from the gate are a pier and a small chapel, both of stone ; and just at this place is the bit of railing al luded to. Al this spot one may be said to take " bis de parture," and to go forth on the lake. Carriages and waggons do pass this lieklish affair; but one can believe that even a man might not relish it in a gale of wind. As the water is not deep, I presume the waves never actually break over it ; still, twelve feet, and no bulwarks, make a narrow beam for a craft a mile long! I walked to the opposite shore, at my usual gait, in seven teen minutes and a half, and returned in seventeen ; from which I infer that the length of this bridge a little exceeds 5000 feet. Ebel makes it 1800 paces, which is equal to 5400 of our feet, or a littie more than a mile. On reaching the southern shore, I first touched the soil of Schwytz. SCHWITZ,--SUNDAY. lOT It was Sunday, the last day of August. The morning was fair, and bland, and calm, as became a Christian Sabbath. The bells were tolling for early mass, in twenty glens, and along the whole village-lined shore. Peasants and their wives were hurrying past, in rustic finery. Most of the men wore flowers and vine-leaves in their hats, from which I inferred they were going to a. fete, until I discovered a faded gobea in my own travelling cap, a piece of pastoral coquetry, for which I was indebted to one of my companions. Mist lay before all the mountains to the south, rendering them mysterious and mighty. The vapour was just rising along the whole shore of Schwytz, too, unveiling villages, pas tures, cottages, and dark forests, as it ascended, and forming exquisite transitions of light and shadow. The whole western side of the lake and valley was already illuminated by tbe sun, looking bright and cheerful ; a gay panorama, that included a thousand objects, beautiful alike in nature and art. The lowers of Rapperschwyl were soft and sunny. I counted twelve of them grouped together, in the small peninsula. After this littie pilgrimage to the cradle of Helvetic liberty, I returned lo the Paon, in an excellent humour to enjoy a breakfast that would have done credit to an American kit chen. In passing, I observed a little artificial portal Rapper schwyl, made of piles. The buildings along the north-west shore of the lake were now all visible beneath the vapour, and as they blended with the glassy lake, and were snowy white, they looked like a thousand sloops becalmed. The day was so glorious, and the scenery opened so finely, as the mists ascended, that, impatient to enjoy it, we all left the Paon, on foot, leaving orders for the carriage to foUow. A short walk transferred us from the canton of St. Gall to that of Zurich. At the distance of a mile or two, Rapperschwyl showed itself in a new aspect. The houses and all the lower buildings were hid by an intervening swell of the land, and nothing was visible but the old castle, the church,— in Europe the houses of God are always taller than the houses of men, — and the towers of the town walls. The side of the emi- lOB RAPPERSCHWYL. nence next us was dark and green, lying in shadow, while the outiine above was tinged, like a halo, with the rays of the sun. These pictures, if less imposing than the more magni ficent glaciers and terrific valleys of the upper Alps, abide more fondly with the memory. By this time the whole of the Sch\^ylz shore was uncovered, and we saw it, pasture above pasture, cottage climbing over cottage, to the elevation of I know not how many thousand feet. The exquisite transparency of the air, out of which everything like vapour appeared to have ascended, enabled us to discern very distant objects with great fidelity, and helped greatly lo increase our sati.sfaclion. AU that the lakes of Switzerland need to renderth em fault lessly beautifid, is islands. They differ so much from each other, as to fill up the sum of all that such landscapes require, with this exception. Here and there an island is met with, it is true, but they are usually insignificant, and not well placed ; nor is there anywhere an approach, in the most remote degree, to what may be called a grouping of islands. In this respect. Lake George is as much before all its Swiss competitors, as it is behind most of them in every other particular, that of tbe transparency of its water excepted. The lake of Zurich is better off than common, however, having an island or two. One of them enjoys the advantage of some historical associa tions. It is called Ufnau, and it lay directly opposite to us, when about a league from Rapperschwyl, at a spot where the lake is said to be three miles wide. There is a ruined tower on it, but the effect is lost amidst the multitude of finer things. Our road lay altogether along the lake. The shore is an irregular acclivity, covered with viUages, farms, vineyards, orchards, and churches, and even the experienceof my worthy friend and connexion, Mr. Mc.4dam, could scarcely produce a better wheel-track. You are to recollect that roads in this country literally help a view, being neither straight nor wide. About a league from Rapperschwyl, we drove for some distance along a sort of natural terrace, overhanging the water. I can give you no just idea of the charms of the entire scene at ZURICH. 109 this particular spot. The shore of Schwytz, lined with white villages, churches, and cottages, formed the opposite coast. The lake was like a mirror, and some twenty large boats, with high square sails, this with the yard a-cockbill, that with one clew up, another with the halyards not half home, and all looking lubberly and picturesque, were silently stealing along, before a gentle north air that seemed loo ethereal lo descend lo the surface of the water. At this moment, the tones of a dozen mournful bells issued out of the glens of Schwytz, some so faint in distance, as to sound like .^olian harps, reaching the ear at intervals only, borne along in sweUs by the passing air. The effect of these bells, sending their melancholy notes out of mountains, and across the water, added to the day and its solemn calm, was to convert the whole scene into a vast and sublime tabernacle ! We passed, at ZoUiken, near Zurich, a vineyard, of which it is said there exist records to prove it has borne the vine five hundred years. Like the bridge, you will readily sup pose that the materials have been often renewed. One is sometimes startled at the antiquity which renders objects of this sort respectable in Europe. At Kuznacht, the words, " Boston, North America," on a tablet let into the outer wall of a church, caught our eyes. It was an inscription to the memory of a young traveller, who had been drowned in the lake, near this spot. His body had been found and interred here. We entered Zurich, after a very delightful drive of some eighteen or twenty miles, through ramparts of verdure, which appeared admirably in keeping with the landscape, whatever may be their efficiency in the way of defence. After being dragged back and forth, through narrow and clean streets, but of very unequal surfaces, we found shelter at last in an inn that stood literally on the margin of the port. The Limmat, the outiet of the lake, glances through the centre of the town, the separate parts of which are connected by bridges wider than the streets. The head of the river is opened like a fan, and across the upper part piles haye been no ZURICH. driven, to designate the limits of the port. As this exjiedient can have no effect in breaking the waves, and is quite i die in a military sense, unless resorted to for the purposes of re venue, I am ignorant of its uses. It may, however, avail something against floating ice, in the spring. An ancient square tower rises out of the water, in the centre of the little port. It was probably erected for defence, but is now a prison. Zurich has about 15,000 inhabitants, and is one of the wealthiest and most important of the Swiss towns. Its ma nufactures are respectable, and the people have an air of ease and comfort. The canton is the seventh in extent, and the second in population. The latter fact is not difficull to be believed, for I scarcely remember a portion of the earth in which rural habitations more abound. The whole lake-shore is a hamlet. The history of the population of this little country exhibits some remarkable changes. According lo Picot (wceived authority, I believe), the canton contained in 1610, 143,990 souls; and in 1634, only 86,621. War and pestilence had [wrought the difference. Famine — ^a scourge America has never known since its earliest days — cut down the people again, between the years 1678 and 1700. This evil has frequently reduced the numbers, not so much by deaths, however, as by compeUed emigration. The present population is about 180,000. The history of Zurich greatly resembles that of Berne. The city ruled the country, and certain families of burghers ruled the city. This system has been modified, however, the French revolution having let in a flood of light upon the rest of Europe. At present, it is the fashion to make all men equal " before the law," as it is called, though all men are very far from being equal in making the laws. Formerly, the great were openly exempt from taxes ; now all are taxed, in name ; but as the rich exclusively make the laws, they con trive to arrange the matter in a way to make the poor pay as much as possible. I have told you, for instance, how at Paris a bottle of wine, which costs six sous, pays just tbe ZURICH. Ill same duty as the bottle which costs six francs ; one being taxed eighty per cent, and the other four per cent. Wine being a necessary in these countries, bread and wine forming the two first articles of consumption with all classes, the policy may be understood. The pretence is, that if wine were cheaper, the labourers would drink too much! I do not say Zurich is obnoxious to this reproach, for the Swiss aristocracies are more mild and just than common, sheer ne cessity compelling moderation ; but it is necessary to admonish you against being deceived by names. All men, let it be understood, therefore, under the new liberahsm of Europe, are absolutely equal before the law; each paying just five sous duty, a boUle, on his wine ! Zurich is much less aristocratical than Berne. The people are mostiy Protestant ; though there are two small districts of Papists. The learning, industry, and general character of this canton have long been respectable ; and without pre tending to know more than may be gathered by a mere passer-by, I should say that there is no falling off in the two latter, at least. You wUl recollect that I have promised to give you littie more than can be gleaned in this imperfect manner; for we Americans generally travel through Europe " unknowing and unknown." In one thing I cannot be mistaken. The water under our windows was as limpid and pure as that of our own Otsego. The lively perch were swimming about, looking as much like the perch at home as one pea is like another. W , in his amor patrice, cast a line, but in vain, to get a nearer view of them. I have already told you that we have a Swiss foundation, too, in our own hills; Zurich, Berne, and Geneva lying all at about the elevation of your native valley. We merely want a granite formation, and superstructures that mount two miles into the air, with the usual accessaries, to be another Swit zerland, Until some convulsion of nature produce the change, however, we shall remain most probably just as we are. 112 LETTER XII. The Albis. — Zug. — Take a Boat for Art. — Democracy and Aristocracy.— Village of Art. — ^Ruins of Goldau. — Pious Flirtation. — A Scene thorougbly .Swiss. — " Our Lady of the Snows." — View from Righi StafFel. — From the summit of the Righi Kulm. — Melancholy Event. — German Swaggerers. — Sunrise. My dear , ", We left Zurich next morning, before breakfast, in a fog, which completely limited the view until we had crossed the Albis, a high and frequented mountain pass, tl^at lies between the lakes of Zurich and Zug. Ebel extols the view; but I am mule. This lime my beloved mists had the best of it, prac- ticaUy demonstrating that there is no earthly good without its attendant alloy. We ate an inexcusably poor breakfast on the summit. In descending, there were some exceedingly pretty glimpses, including the lake and canton of Zug — I say the canton, for the latter is so small, that it comes very well in at a glance. We passed an old convent, and entered this little slate, the smallest in the confederation, at the distance of a mile or two from its capital. Its population is less than fifteen thousand, and its size somewhat smaller than that of a common New- York township, containing about twenty-five square miles. Even this tittle region, one of the oldest cantons, had the aristo cratic form of government, until the French revolulion-^the country, containing some ten or twelve thousand souls, being subject to the city, which contains two. The religion is Ca tholic. The town of Zug stands on the lake-shore, and is rendered a preUy object in the distant view by its walls and lowers, which were constructed lo resist the ancient modes of warfare. As we approached it, the children rushed out to beg; sturdy PROCEED TO ART. IIS young rogues who deem earning a penny in this manner a sort of pastime. One lad officiously offered to place the sabot beneath the wheel; but, after a moment of parley with the coachman, he dropped the iron, and walked surlily on. On inquiry, I found he had been notified there would be no pay. Point d'argent, point de Suisse. We could not help laugh ing at the coincidence ; though the same result would be just as likely to follow the same circumstances in France or Italy. In England, habitual deference would have got the better of cupidity, though the lesson would be remembered ; and in Ame- rita, pride, and perhaps principle, would have carried the lad through with his self-assumed job. At Zug we quitted the carriage, with orders for it to pro ceed to Lucerne. We then engaged a guide, and look a boat for Art. The shore was well lined with bateaux, fitted as those already described on the Oberland waters, with esta blished prices and other conveniences. The delay did not exceed twenty minutes. A collation which had been ordered " for the good of the house," was taken into the boat, and eaten by the way. We were nearly three hours in going to Art, with as many oars. The lake is pretty ; but by no means so singularly beau tiful and,wild as those we had before crossed. Onr guide proved to be intelligent, and a little of a wag. He was a staunch de fender of the new system. Among other things, he told us, with evident satisfaction, there was but one man in his canton who wrote de before his name ; at the same time, he appeared to be fully aware of the important truth that perfection is hopeless, and that too much must not be asked of democracy. In short, he had, as is usually the case, much more practical common sense, on all these subjects, than those who claim to be exclusively the salt of the earth. Those who think themselves set apart for the sole enjoyment of the good things of this world, forget that this state of being is merely a part of a great whole ; that a superior Intelligence directs all ; that this divine Intelligence has established equitable laws, and implanted in every man a consciousness of right and 8 114 VILLAGE OF ART. wrong, which enables the lowest in the scale to appreciate innate justice, and which makes every man, ia some degree, critical in matters that touch his own welfare. Education and habit, it is true, may blunt or pervert this natural faculty; but, as prosperity is notoriously more apt than adversity to lead the heart astray, I have never yet been in a country in which what are called the lower orders have not clearer and sounder views than their betters of the great principles which ought to predominate in the control of human affairs. I speak of classes, and not of individuals, of course ; nor do I believe that any condition of slavery, however abject, ever extinguishes this perception of simple truths, which has been implanted by God for his own great ends. The abihty to express is not always commensurate with the ability to con ceive; and, as lo what are called popular excesses and vio lence, they are commonly the results of systems which de prive masses of the power to act in any other manner than by an appeal to their force. Bodies of men may be misled, certainly, and even justice when administered violently be come dangerous; but in all such cases it wiU be found that a sentiment of right lies at the bottom of even the mistaken im pulses of the majority. What sense of right, on the other hand, can accompany those who throw firebrands into masses with a view to profit by their excesses ; who hurry a people on to madness in order to benefit themselves, through the reaction, by a return lo power; who, in short, deeeive, excite, and combine, in order to betray, that they and theirs may profit by the frauds?* The latter was the course of the Eu ropean aristocracy during the French revolution, most of the abominations of which, I believe, are now attributed by cool- headed and impartial men to their secret agents. Majorities may certainly oppress as well as minorities ; but the former, having the conviction of their force, rarely do so fbr their own security. ArlisasmaUvillage,attheheadof the lakeof Zug, in the canton of Schwytz, or Schweitz. Of course, we had now reached tbe very focus of Swiss independence, and were, ia RUINS OF GOLDAU. 11,5 truth, drawing near the scenes of Tell's memorable exploits. We orderedhorses for theladies, and proceeded ahead, on foot towards the ruins of Goldau, The walk, for a mile, was along an excellent carriage road, and through meadows of exquisite delicacy and verdure, among fruit-trees and all the other ac companiments of rural beauty, I can cite to you nothing with which to compare the neatness and velvet-like softness of the fields, but those of door-yards in our prettiest villages ; for, in the way of agriculture on a great scale, we have nothing that is comparable. The English lawns are not neater, and their herbage did not appear to me to be as lively and choice. Figure to yourself the ohill that came over our delight, at pass ing through such a vale, when we found its loveliness blast ed by piles of rock, earth, and stones, that had faUen across it, in one overwhelming mass, burying hamlets, houses, churches, fields, and owners. Of this extraordinary catas trophe I shall have occasion lo speak hereafter. At Goldau, which stands on the site of a buried hamlet of the same name, we left the carriage road, diverging by a bridle path, into the fields. Here we were overtaken by the horses, and the ladies were placed in the usual well-protected seats. W and myself continued on foot. We bad been much amused at Art with a species of pious flirtation, between the landlady and two capuchins, whom she was treating to some of the creature comforts of her well -supplied larder. This woman wore a muslin friU, by way of apology for a cap, which, the colour excepted, exactly resembled a cock's comb. The hair was all drawn back from her forehead and temples, to form a foundation for this singular ornament. We found this, however, to be the prevailing fashion here. When will it reach Broadway, vid la rue Vivienne? One of the capu chins in question came up with the horses, and I profited by his good humour to get into discourse with him. All the can tons of this part of the confederation are Catholic, and this brother was one of a fraternity which dwells habitually in the valley, but which keeps an outpost on tbe side of the Righi, at a spot where there is a chapel dedicated to Notre Dame 8* 116 A SCENE des Neiges — Our Lady of the Snows ! — There is at least poetry in the Popish names ; nor can a pious intention be denied those who formed an establishment like this. My companion was one of the three who, just then, were on duty on the mountain, and we had the prospect of his company as far as bis abode. . At first, the ascent was gradual, the path leading through meadows and copses of wood, in a way to render it pleasant. This lasted for some time, during which I walked ahead with the monk. At length be suddenly excused himself, by say ing that the hour had arrived when he was obliged to attend to his periodical devotions. Taking out a breviary, to work he went, by beginning to mutter the usual Latin prayers. W and myself, observing that we had a sharp pitch of the mountain in front, pushed vigorously ahead without look ing behind us, for several minutes. Though resolute and ac tive, downright want of breath ere long compelled us both to stop. , The path here actually ascended by a species of stairs, made by placing logs and stones among the rocks, in a way to render them secure. Each step was very broad, and some of them were disagreeably high. There were a good many landings, and of course the direction varied from lime to time. We had come lo a halt, on a projecting spur, of our natural ladder, and the scene was now so thoroughly Swiss that it merits a more minute description. 1 There had been a shower while we were on the lake, and the mists were rising from the forests and clinging about the sides of the mountains. We got but partial glimpses through the openings at the distant view, though these constantly varied like a moving panaroma, besides being really beautiful in themselves. Among the other floating objects was the pretty little lake of Lowerz, with its rocky island and ruined tower. Directly beneath us lay the meadows and copses through which the path meandered down lo the desolation of Goldau. The party below had been detained by meeting some return horses from the mountain, the guides choosing lo change the THOROUGHLY SWISS. 117 cattle. They were now coming on, however, in a line through the meadows, with the bareheaded capuchin bringing up the rear, still at his aves and paters. The relieved horses were disappearing in a thicket, on their way back, and a drove of cows was winding its way down the steps beneath us, follow ed by six or seven dairy-men, having their tubs and milking stools strapped to their shoulders. It was the day when the mountain pastures were abandoned for those in the valley. One sturdy broad-backed fellow closed the procession with a live calf on his shoulders. The mUdness of the day, the hue, (for evening was not distant) , the play of the mists, the smok ing forests, and the dark verdure of the meadows, contributed to render this one of the most exquisite rural scenes imagin able. You may form some opinion of the scale of the whole picture by getting an idea of the size of this mountain. Three thousand cows alone are pastured on it during the summer; there are numerous flocks of sheep besides. This being the first day of of September, most of them were descending by the different paths wbich communicate with the valleys. That we were on, was the one least frequented by the herdsmen and shepherds. We were by no means done with our stairs, which seemed fairiy to lead to heaven. At length, after being nearly out of breath, heated, and with parched mouths, W — — and myself reached a little tavern that was well filled with shepherds, cow-herds and calf-carriers, on their way down. Delicious water spouted from a fountain a little farther on, and I hurried to it, with a feeling of thirst that I scarcely remember to have suffered before. Fearful of drinking, I put my wrists under the stream. So great and sudden was the effect, that I was actually quitting the spot, when W reminded me that I had not tasted the water 1 One or two swaUows sufficed. It may bemore pleasant to drink on such occasions; but the other is by far the safes' course, and it is equally efficacious in slak ing thirst. We now had a delightfnlly cool walk through a wood of larches ; the whole party overtaking us, with the exception of 118 USE OF TEA. the monk, who joined the cowherds at the inn to slake his thirst in a less heretical manner. Quitting the wood, we en tered some meadows, always ascending; but the labour seemed light after that we had just gone through. At length we came lo a cluster of eight or ten buildings, among which are several inns, and the hospice, with the littie chapel of " Our Lady of the Snows." This hamlet is in a sort of dale, though perfect ly level ground is scarcely found this side the great staircase, being surrounded with pastures and meadows. As we passed the hospice, two monks looked at us through the windows ; these, with the one left behind among the calf-carriers, com posed the fraternity that inhabited the building. They pass the winter here, and offer succour lo all who want it ; but scarcely any besides the shepherds ever approach the spot after autumn. The hospice dates from 1689; but the inns have been set up since the rage for travelling has become so general. The paths are abandoned , I believe, in winter. This place is much resorted to on Sundays and holidays by the moun taineers, and the Sth of September is a great festival, in honour of the birth of Mary. Other f6tes, of a more rustic character, are kept on this vast and pleasant mountain, which attract large concourses of spectators. We stopped at an inn. The crowds on the summit fre quently drive travellers here in summer, in quest of lodgings. By advice of the guide, Ve betook ourselves to refreshments : to my surprise, he ordered tea for himself, and we followed his example. This man told me he could undergo more fa tigue, aided by this stimulant, than by any other. The prac tice of taking tea, as a restorative, after a hard day's work in the mountains, is, I find, very general ; but, allhough we lake it constantly, as a national usage, I was not aware that its consumption had got to be so common on the European con tinent. The path was always upward, after leaving the hospice, though there was no very severe ascent. It led through pastures, and nearly in a direct line. W and myself pressed on, nor did an inscription, in memory of some Saxon THE RIGHI STAFFEL. 110 prince cut on the living rock, tempt us to halt. Before us lay a broad reach of pastures on an inclined plane, the azure of the heavens bounding its upper margin. Thither then we eagerly held our way, leaving guides, horses, and companions far behind. Twenty times, during the afternoon, I had been reminded of the Pilgrim's Progress, by the rocks, marshes, burdens, and weary ascents, and it now appeared as if the end of our labours, like his, was to be heaven. Upward then we urged, until, without the smallest sense of fatigue, we stood on the very verge of that line which for half an hour had lain before us, bounded by air ! For myself, I can fairly say, that, the occasion of a total eclipse of the sun excepted, I never felt so deep a sentiment of admiration and awe, as at that exquisite moment. So greatly did reality exceed the pictures we had formed, that the surprise was as complete as if nothing had been expected. The first effect was really bewildering, leaving behind it a vague sensation, that the eye had strangely assembled the rarest elements of scenery, which were floating before it, without order, in pure wantonness. To this feeling, the in definite form of the lake of Lucerne greatly contributed, for it stretches out its numerous arms in so many different directions, as, at first, to appear like water in the unreal forms of the fancy. Volumes of mist were roUing swjftiy along it, at the height of about two thousand feet above its surface, and of as many below ourselves, allowing us to look through the openings, in a way to aid the illusion. The party came up in time to enjoy the effects of the vapour before it blew entirely away. We were at the point which is called the Righi Staffel, and I can deseribe the posi tion no better, than by likening it to the roof of a shed, placing the spectator on its upper edge. The entire moun tain is near thirty miles in circumference at its base, standing like an advanced bastion of tbe Alpine range, separated from all others, and the place we occupied was more than 4000 feet above the adjoining lakes, and about 5500 above the sea. The manner in which Lucerne coquetted with us, before 120 COMPARISON OF SCENERY. the vapour drove away, was indescribably beautiful. This town, which is surrounded by ancient walls, that are bristling with towers, and which contains many striking objects in its churches and other edifices, was actually several leagues distant, though il appeared nearly beneath the eye. But why speak of one object, when there were a thousand? Of towns, there were Kusnacht, Sarnen, Lucerne, and villages without number. The blue of the water, too, imbedded, as it was, in dark mountains, was alone sufficient to make an uncom mon landscape. It was of the colour of the skies in the old Italian paintings, which every one from the northern re gions is ready to pronounce preposterous, but which was cer tainly seen here, in the other element, and to a degreealmost to cause us to believe we had made acquaintance with a new nature. As we did not choose to stay at the inn which has been erected near this enchanting spot, with the bald head of the mountain at no great distance, and in plain view, we pressed forward for the Righi Kulm, or head. Having stUl a little lime lo look about us, however, the guide led us to a place at which the water had made a passage through the rocks, and where a stone dropped in the orifices above, found its way out at the side, several hundred feet down the high perpendicular wall which forms this face of the mountain. As you are so familiar with the state of New York, before quitting the Righi Staffel, I may give you some idea of the nature of its view by telling you that it is not unlike that from the lerrrace of the Pine Orchard, with the material dif ference, however, of the spectator being twice as high above the adjoining country, and three times higher above tide. The Righi is nearly naked of trees, too, at this elevation; the mountain is better placed, standing more forward from the great ranges ; the atmosphere has that visible transparency which one observes in the most limpid water, and wbich great artists sometimes succeed in throwing around a land scape, while the country seen from the KaalskiU will bear no comparison, in either natural objects or artificial accessaries, THE RIGHI KULM. 121 with those which cover the whole face of the land in the region I am describing. I very well know that these comparisons are littie likely lo find favour among patriots, in a country in which it is per mitted to say with impunity what one wUl of the institutions, the work of man, and for which men are or ought to be re sponsible; but where it is lese majeste to whisper aught against the perfection of natural objects, unless some plau sible connexion can be made out between them and democra cy. American bon ton, in these matters, is of a singularly delicate texture, polite patriotism spreading its mantle before even the cats and dogs, when it will suffer those sturdy truths, which form the true glory of the nation, to defend themselves in the best manner they can. Thank God ! they are strong enough to go alone. At the risk, however, of being set down as one spoiled by traveUing, — a dire cala mity ! — and of certain defeat, should it ever be my ill luck to be put in the way of preferment by a "regular nomina tion," I now tell you, tbe Pine Orchard will compare with the Righi, only as the KaalskiU wiU compare with the falls of Trenton ; and that the Hudson, unrivaUed as a river and in the softer landscape scenery, bears some such resem blance to the lake of the Four Cantons, in the grand and the sublime, as the Falls of the Canada do to those of the Niagara. After viewing the fissure in the rocks, which threatens an other land-slip at no distant day, we left the edge of the pre cipice, and followed a circuitous patch which led lo the sum mit. Here, allhough no longer taken by surprise, we enjoyed a stiU more extended and magnificent prospect. The moun tain rises like a cone, from the shores of Zug preserving this form for nearly half a circle, when it joins the more irre gular and huge mass already alluded lo, and up one of whose sides we had been clinibing. At the extreme northern end, or that which overhangs the lake just mentioned, the conical form is preserved, even above the inclined plane of the Staffel, until it reaches the height of near 5000 feet above the neigh- boui'-waterSj'and of more than 6000 feet above the sea. 122 VIEW FROM The summit of the Righi Kulm may contain three or four acres, on a slightly inclined plane, the irregular section of an irregular cone. There are a lodging-house a la Suisse, stables, a cross that is visible at a great distance from below, and an elevated iplatform, whence the most extended view can be obtained. This spot is without tree or shrub, but it is sufficiently well covered with grass. Most views lose in the detail what they gain in extent, by climbing mountains. After the first feeling of satisfaction at commanding $o many objects with the eye is abated, the more critical amateur misses those minuter points of beauty which we come most to love, and which are lost for the want of the profile in bird's-eye prospects. In Switzerland, however, this remark is less true than elsewhere; the grand scale of its nature rendering a mountain, even when reversed, a mountain still. As most of the country is in high relief, the shadows re main distinct, and little is lost, or rather that which remains is so palpable and bold, that the minuter parts are not missed. In the view from the Righi, towards the north and north-west, it is true, this remark is not quite infallible, for in that direction the eye is limited only by distance, the country being generally broken, but comparatively low. Even this wide sweep of vi sion, however, helps to make up the sublime, being map-like, distinct, and in remarkable contrast lo tbe magnificent confu sion of Alpine peaks in the opposite points of the compass. The lage of Zug, being the nearest, is the most conspicuous sheet of water that is seen from the Righi Kulm. Over the dark blue expanse of this oval basin, the spectator seems li- teraUy to hang, as if suspended in a baUoon. There is a spot, in particular, from which it appears as if one might almost leap into the lake, and nowhere is its southern shore visible immediately beneath the mountain. Art and its lovely valley, the desolation of Goldau, and the vast chasm in the mountain itself whence the ruin came, the littie lake of Lowerz, the town of Schwytz, were ranged along the left. Behind them rose mountains in a crowd and confusion that render description hopeless. I leave your imagination to body out the thousand THE RIGHI KULM. 12;t grand or picturesque forms in which these granite piles lift their bald heads, for in that quarter few were covered with snow, I cannot tell you how many lakes are visible from the Righi Kulm. I counted thirteen; besides which, the lakes of Zurich and Lucerne peep out, from behind the mountains, in no less than six different places, each basin looking like a separate body of water. Then there are many rivers, drawn through rich meadows in blue winding lines. Everywhere the waters were dark as ultramarine. Of towns, and churches, and towers, it is almost commonplace to speak, on such an occa sion. They dotted the panorama, however, in all directions; for it was not possible to look into one of the many valleys which opened around us like a spreading fan, without their meeting the eye. I presume you think you have now obtained some just im pressions of the view from the Righi. So far from this, I have yet scarcely alluded lo its leading, its most wonderful feature. Tbe things mentioned, beyond a question, are the first to strike the eye, and for a lime they occupy the attention ; but the most sublime beauties of this elevated stand are to be found in the aspect of the high Alps. These peaks are clustered all along the southern horizon, looking hoary, grim, and awful! a congress of earthly giants. They are seen distinctly only at short intervals, in the morning and evening. Frequently they are shut up in a gloom adapted lo their chill mysteries, and then again parts appear, as whirlwinds and mists drive past. At such moments they truly seem the region of storms. Amid the stern group, it is possible to distinguish the Jung Frau, and all her majestic neighbourhood; the Titiis, my Bernese discovery ; and a hundred more that I could not name, if I would. I believe none of the great southern range of the Alps, including Mont Blanc and Monte Rosa, came into the view. They are excluded by the great height of the nearer line of Oberland. We found a good many travellers on the Kulm, mostiy Germans. Every one was too much occupied with himself 124 MEL.4NCH0LY EVENT. however, and witii the great objects of the ascent, lo waste the time in intercourse. The guide-books speak of the fear ful nature of the precipices, and of getting down on the hands and knees to look over their brows ; but I cannot say we were so humbled; for though imposing and grand, I found no dif ficulty in standing near the verge, and of sustaining my fe male companions there. As for W , he went skipping and bounding along the outer edge of the plane, in a manner so goat-like that I was compelled to check him. Steadiness in such situations is, I believe, purely physical, and of course hereditary. The father of W Was remarkable for this properly, and had he been a Swiss, he would have made a notorious chamois hunter. The Righi Kulm was the scene of a melancholy event, not a great while since. A German — a Prussian, I believe — ascended with his wife. From some cause or other (insanity, most probably), the poor man took it into his head to leap off. It would seem that he announced his intention, for the screams and entreaties of his wife induced the guide to interfere. After a severe struggle, the German got away, and effected his purpose. The first fall is estimated at about eight hundred feet; and when the body was sought by torchlight, it was found necessary lo throw it down another precipice before it could be brought to a path. The house was crowded, and although there is a private parlour or two, they were occupied, and we were obliged to take a table in the general eating-room. Most of the company were quiet and well-behaved ; but there were three or four German swaggerers who were sufficientiy disagreeable. These gentry — students, I believe — talked loud and dogma tically, fiUed the air with smoke, and, in walking, stamped like horses. I think they were the ne plus ultra of vulgar self-importance. The night was windy, but it was cheered by a misty moon. I walked out alone, to enjoy the novelty of so unusual a si tuation. We seemed lo be raised in the air on an elevated platform, for the gales lo beat against. The views were dim DESCENT. 125 and extraordinary, but, at moments, of singular wildness. Once or twice, during the night, I awoke with a sort of sen sation of flying ; nor do I think it impossible that the house may'yet slide off, from its giddy perch, before the high winds that prevail here in autumn. In such a case, it would pro bably be found floating in one of the lakes. We were up early, of course, and enjoyed the rising of the sun. The mists were soon stirred, and the clouds began to float between us and the lower world. One, in particular, came sailing on our own level, and presently the whole summit was wrapt in vapour. The feeling, as you may suppose, was much like that of being in a heavy fog. For a few moments we could not see across the Kulm. Then it blew away, and we saw the vapour flying towards the Alps. We had some ex quisite glimpses through the mist at the lakes, and once or twice the whole line of the upper Alps stood out in noble re lief from the horizon. The mounlains appeared lo have come nearer to us, and were more awful than ever. Every minute, however, changed the appearance of objects, until the sun prevaUed, when the day shone forth, fair and genial. LETTER XIII.; Descent. — Pilgrims. — Gessler and Tell. — Take a boat for Lucerne. — Re markable Objects of that Town, — Lake of Sempach. — Arnold de Win kelried. — Langenthal. — A hearty Innkeeper. — Erroneous Notions of '¦ Liberty. — Return to la Loraine. My dear , The ladies determined to descend on foot, and we left the inn immediately after breakfast. Just before the door of the house at the Staffel, the guide took the way over the brow of 126 GESSLER AND TELL, ' the precipice, in a manner that looked very much like jumping down it. We found, notwithstanding, a good, and, at that season, a sufficientiy secure path. It is not always without danger, however ; for, a few hundred feet down the mountain, he showed us a spot where he had slipped the previous spring. He had slidden, on the frozen snow, to the very edge of a pre cipice, whence a fall would have been destruction. He saved himself by the point of his iron-shod walking staff, and was rescued from the perilous situation by the aid of his com panions. The descent was very pleasant, and far from difficult. At first, there were a few sharp declivities, but we soon reached the meadows that lie along the bases of the mountain. A party of pilgrims, from Notre Dame des Neiges, passed us, chanting the aves alternately, the male and female voices har monizing sweetiy, as usual. We made a short halt at a chdlet that stands on a terrace, where we got some milk, and whence we had a fine and more earthly view of the two lakes, than that from the Kulm. This would be a lovely spot for a summer retreat. On our left as we passed through some extensive meadows, the top of a small chdteau, quite in ruins, showed itself from out a copse. This had been one of the holds held by Gessler, who had several in the mounlains. To this place he was com ing when killed by Tell. The latter event occurred lower down, at a spot where a good carriage-road now passes from Art, around the base of the Righi, and by the shores of the lake of Zug, leading to Kusnacht and Lucerne. It is called the chemin creux * (or, as we should term it in Ame rica, the dugway), from the circumstance of the path being cut between two banks. Tell took the bailli at a disadvantage, in this narrow defile, protecting himself by a thicket. He killed him outright by an arrow. History, which too often trespasses on the grounds of a sister muse, puts a fine speech into the mouth of the mountaineer ; but these things are ge- * In German, die hoUe Gassp. KUSNACHT. 127 neraUy done in a very quiet manner, and without much pa rade of sentiment. It is singular so littie is known of Tell. Some writers affect to doubt whether such a man ever existed. But his birth seems to be certain, though a mystery still hangs over his death. One version of it says he was drowned in trying to save a chUd. He does not appear to have been more than a resolute mountaineer, who was willing to risk his life for liberty. TeU was one of the conspirators of the Griitli, but not a chief. Walter Furst, Werner Stauffach, and Arnold de Melchthal were the three leaders, each of whom brought with him, to the celebrated meadow, ten followers. Indepen dence was not so much the object of these patriots, as relief ivoxa the tyranny of subordinates, and private grievances lay at the bottom of their zeal. Their measures were precipi tated by the affair at the chemin creux, and the revolt com menced immediately. Its success has led to the establish ment of the present Swiss Confederacy. Gessler was killed the 1 8lh Nov. 1 307, and yet here is the same little hollow pass in the road, in which the deed was done! The castle was taken and destroyed, in January, 1308, and there stands its weather-beaten towers, much as they were left by tbe assailants ; but it is now doubted whe ther Tell ever lived, and no one can say, certainly, where or how he died ! The life of a man, truly, makes but a point in the march of time, his own hands rearing monuments that outiast his memory ! We reached Kusnacht, after a charming walk of three hours and half Here we discharged the guide, and took a boat for Lucerne. The course lay down a deep bay, when, turning a headland, we proceeded by the main lake lo its foot. A worse boat could not bave been invented, there being no very sensible difference between its bottom, and the " top- hamper" of the wooden canopy. Sometimes our movement was very crab-like, and once I really thought we were about to try the sailing qualities of the roof. I am inclined to think it was just the worst craft in Switzerland, for most of the rest 1-28 LUCERNE. had awnings, and did go bow foremost. But we could get no other. We passed two or three very small rocky islands, quite near the shore. Notwithstanding the awkwardness of the navigation, it proved to be a pleasant row, and we entered the port of Lucerne, which is the river Reuss, in safety, and in pretty good season. For the latter advantage, we were somewhat indebted lo a fine breeze that sent us along, for the last hour, in a very " will ye, niU ye" fashion. Ordering dinner, we hastened to see the sights. One is a wounded lion, carved in the living rock, after a model by Thorwaldsen, and erected in honour of those Swiss guards who were cut to pieces at the taking of the Tuileries in 1792. The keeper was a survivor of that bloody day, and he dis charged his duty with the courtesy of an attendant upon kings. As a work of art, this lion is justiy extolled, though I think it inferior lo one of the two celebrated animals of Canova. Thorwaldsen is usually more successful with the grand than with the beautiful, while with Canova tbe reverse was noto riously the fact. Yet, in this instance, the modeller of Ve- nuses, and Hebes, and Magdalens, appears lo have stepped out of his usual track, and to have struggled successfuUy with his great competitor. There is at Lucerne a raised map of Switzerland, on an extensive scale, which is well worthy of being seen. It nearly fills a large hall, and the mountains, glaciers, lakes, viUages, roads, paths, — ay, even the chMels (meaning the traveUer's cbAlets), are designated with singular beauty and truth. It is the work of many industrious years, and quite a treasure in its way. These maps are now common enough, especially in Germany; but this, besides having the great merits of a size and ah accuracy that surpass all others, is said to have been tbe first of the kind. I traced our different excursions by it with great satisfaction, and with the closest scrutiny could detect no essential error. Of course, an infinity of detail is wanting, though there is even more of this than one would be LUCERNE, 129 apt to imagine. Having all Switzerland in a room, I was enabled lo satisfy myself that my own discovery was really the Titiis. , One of the bridges of Lucerne (covered of course) has a dance of Death painted beneath its roof, like the celebrated painting, on the same subject, at BAle. It is a miserable con ceit, and only valuable as a relic of another age, and of a dif ferent state of manners, i The walls of Lucerne enclose a good deal of empty space. Like tho^e of Zug, and many other Swiss towns, they are picturesque, being well garnished with towers, ornaments of a landscape that can hardly be misplaced, or so constructed as not to embellish the view, but which have become quite useless in modern warfare, except as against a coup de main, having been built in the fourteenth century. We Vent to bed with a sense of fatigue hitherto unknown in all our rambles. I rose, on the following morning, with a stiffness about the muscles of the legs wbich I had never be fore experienced, and glad enough was I to see the carriage draw up. W , on the other hand, left us on foot, tak ing the celebrated valley of Enllibuch, in his way to la Lor raine. Our road now lay by the open country, and, though always through a beautiful district, it offered littie, except in its neat ness and in the novel architecture, of a very interesting kind. We passed tbe lake of Sempach, on whose banks, in 1386, was fought one of the great battles that assured the liberties of this country. On this occasion, 1400 of the Swiss were opposed to 6000 of the Austrian chivalry. The latter dis mounted, and forming a phalanx that was thought impene trable, stood with their lances presented to receive the assault. The Swiss placed themselves in column, presenting an angle, and charged. They were repulsed by a wall of iron. At this crisis, when the Austrians were beginning to open, in order lo surround them, Arnold de Winkelried, a gentleman of Un terwalden, called to his companions to protect his wife and children. He then rushed forward, and, being of great size 130 LANGENTHAL. and strength, he seized the ends of as many lances as his arms could embrace, and as he fell pierced by their points, he drew his enemies down with him. By this opening, his countrymen penetrated, throwing the heavily armed Austrians into confu sion. This is the Swiss account of the matter, and, numbers excepted, it is probably true in aU its leading points. There are certain great events embalmed in history that it wUl not do to question, and which, even when false, it is unwise to dislurbl as they are so many incentives to noble deeds. The early ages of Switzerland, moreover, show great self-devotion in her people, and I believe this act of Winkelried rests on much belter authority than the affair of Tell and the apple. We slopped lo take a goiiter in tbe middle of the day, and such a gouter I never before essayed. We asked for a fruit tart, and (odours and nosegays!) they gave us one made of onions; which the landlady-^mintained was a very good fruit, in its way. Of course, we ate exactly as much of it as we wished. There were fewer farm-houses this day than usual ; though the husbandry seemed good and the country rich. As we approached Argovie again, the system of irrigation reap peared. We passed an ancient chateau ; got another peep of Aarberg, through the hills, but from a side directiy opposite to that whence we had first beheld it ; had a beautiful glimpse of a chateau, seated on the side of the Jura; met the Aar, soon after, against whose current fifteen men were pulling a boat ; and made our hall at Langenthal, for the night, in sufficient season to fill the vacuum that the onions had not occupied. A fine village and a beautiful country, though quite level. We were again in the great valley of the Aar, you will re member, or in the district that separates the Jura from the Alps. We stopped at an inn which was the very beau ideal of rural comfort. The landlord was a hearty, well-fed countryman; I dare say a magistrate of some kind or other; civil without servility, kind, obliging, and disposed to do all we wanted without fuss or the appearance of venahly. In ERRONEOUS NOTIONS OF LIBERTY. 131 short, he was the exact counterpart of a respectable New England innkeeper; a happy mixture of what a freeman ought to be, with what one of his calling finds it for his interest lo become. As I walked like a horse with the spring-halt, he good-naturedly inquired if I had received a hurt. Touching the calf of a leg, I merely answered, " Righi Berg." The laugh that followed was hearty and good-humoured, and seemed to be mingled with honest exultation at the triumph of his mountains. It was contagious, and a merrier ac quaintance was never commenced. We had delicious tea, a good supper, and as excellent beds as can be made with feathers — a material that ought to be declared contraband of sleep. We were served in our own room by a daughter of the innkeeper, who by her intelligence and decency also strongly reminded us of home. There are many manufactories at Langenthal, and near it, though in the canton of Lucerne is a convent of monks. The latter are Dominicans, and we were told there were thirty-three of them. This place is in a corner of Berne, and but a mile or two from the boundaries of Lucerne, Soleure, and Argovie. On our way from Langenthal, we saw the first garde champetre that had been met in Switzerland. There are plenty o{ gendarmes in Berne; light men, commonly, with fusees slung at the back, wearing brown uniforms, shackos, and swords; soldiers in reality, though less military in their mien than those of France. We are too much in the practice of confounding the substance with the shadow, on all these matters, in America. It is the fashion to say that we have had a good training in fiberty through our English descent. I believe the pretension to be singularly unfounded. It is true, that some of the great principles of English law accustom the subject to the exercise of certain rights, and create a disposition to defend them. But where do not similar feelings exist, as respects some immunity or other? There is no despotism so strong, that it is not obliged lo respect usages, whatever may be the authority of the monarch, on paper. n-i ERRONEOUS NOTIONS The great difference between England and the other nations of Europe, in this respect, has arisen from the fact that her rights are admitted in theory, while those of the Continent bave existed more as concessions from the monarch. England, loo, has had more of them; and the institution of juries, in particular, has caused an admixture of authority that, beyond a question, and in despite of gross abuses, has given tone and confidence to the subject. Still, as many fallacies and defects have followed this system of immunities, perhaps, as positive benefits. Take, as an example, the high-sounding privilege that " every man's house is bis castle." This has a big appearance ; and, in a state of society in which arrests in civil cases were liable lo be abused by power, it may pos sibly have been some protection against practical tyranny ; but, admitting the principles that the debtor ought to be made to pay, and that his person must be seized in order to proceed against his effects, on what sound notion of right and wrong is a law lo be defended which enables him who owes, to bar his door and laugh al his creditor through a window ? If a debtor ought to pay, and if service of process be necessary lo bring him into court, it is rank nonsense to call this evasion of the right by a word as sacred as that of liberty. English jurisprudence and English liberty abound with these con tradictions, many of which have descended to America, as heir-looms. One of the consequences of considering mere franchises as political liberty, is a confusion between cause and effect, and cause prejudices like these which exist against a gendai-merie. Political liberty does not exist in the nature of particular or dinances, but in the fact that the mass of a community, in the last resort, holds the power of making such municipal regu lations, and of doing all great and sovereign acts, as may com port with their current necessities. A state that set up a dic tator, so long as its people retained the practical means of resuming their authority, would, in principle, be freerthan that which should establisli a republic, with a limited constituency, and a provision agiiinst change, Democracies may submit to OF LlBEtlTY. \n martial law, without losing any part of their ueraocralic cha racter, so long as they retain the right to recall the act. Thus may a democracy commission gendar7nes to execute its most familiar ordinances, without in the least impairing its political pretension. Laws are enacted to be executed;* and if a man ' In England there is a government of what is called three estates — or, of King, Lords, and Commons. Here are three distinct elements, admitted into the very organization of the system. The king and the peers hold powers that are hereditary ; — the commons, at first, did represent that portion of the community below the lords, which in fact knew enough, or cared enough, about government, to take any great interest in its manage ment. But the king, besides a power to make peace and war, and to create peers, and to dispose of all dignities and places, — ^besides administering jus- lice by his deputies, and executing all the laws through his agents, — had also legislative authority co-ordinate with that of parliament. His veto was absolute. It is scarcely necessary to add, that under such a system, the king literally governed, checked, according to circumstances, by the parliament. The peers were few, and though addicted to rebellion and conspiracies, they were eiFectually managed by attainders and the axe. So long as the monarch could make and unmake them at pleasure, and the commons were poor, im potent, and ignorant, both were virtually his tools. He reigned and go verned ; reigned, in virtue of his birthright, and governed all the better, perhaps, by this machinery of a spurious liberty. This state of things was gradually changed by the progress of society. A succession of feeMe and corrupt princes, too, concurred to assist the natural tendencies of events, which is generally to strengthen political aristocracies at the expense of the sovereign. After wresting power, little by little, from the Stuarts, the last of that family was finally set aside, the aristocracy pro fiting by a religious excitement to effect its ends. The constitution, as it now stands, was established in the reign of his successor, though subsequent ages have greatly developed its latent principle, which has tended from the first to convert the government to an oligarchy. The result is no secret. The King of England is permitted to do but one official act, except through the agency of his ministers, and under the liabilities of ministerial respon sibility. This one act is a power to name his ministers. This power, however, would still leave him a monarch, were it real. It is notoriously unreal, the king having been reduced to be a mere parliamentary echo. Practically, be is compelled to respect the pleasure of the two houses, before he can even name those who are called his advisers. The power to dissolve parliament is available only to the faction of his ministry, which, as a matter of course, wields it solely for its own ends. If it can get a majority by a dissolution, well; if not, the alternative is resignation; the pleasure and judgment of the king himself counting for nothing. In such a state of things the exercise of the veto becomes useless. So long as the ministry, which in fact alone can use it, is in the majority, it would not be likely to be called for — certainly not in any question of gravity — and, when in a minority it is compelled to make way for successors, who would be of the same manner of thinking as parliament, A dissolution 34 ERRONEOUS NOTIONS with a gun on his shoulder be necessary to their execution, it surely is no sign that liberty is on the wane that such agents might postpone, but it could not change these results. It might, possibly, a little modify them as to forms. Hence, then, arises the fact, that political contests in England are actively carried on in the legislative bodies; for these in truth decide on the character and complexion of the administration ; and the fact, that nearly a century has elapsed since any king of England has been known to use the co-ordinate power, which, by the old theory of the constitution, he was thought to possess in legislation, by resorting to the veto. In these later times, even his right to dissolve parliament, tvrice in succession, has been pronounced unconstitutional. It was done by Mr. Pitt, and successfully, but with the moral certainty that he was sustained by the nation, and, what was of more account, with a belief that he must prevail in obtaining majorities, through the great influence of the patronage he ¦wielded. The test of power, it will be seen, rests always in the fact of par liamentary majorities, the assumed prerogative of the king counting for nothing. Jn short, in the face of a majority, the royal authority is rendered null, or as if it did not exist. The indirection by which the aristocracy rules iu no manner impeaches the result, since with these results are connected the entire action and efficiency of the government. The state of things is exactly reversed from what it was in the days of Elizabeth, who governed through her parliament ; whereas parliament now governs through the Icing. There can be no question, that England has made much nearer approaches to liberty than formerly, by this change ; for, while the sway of a limited constituency which, in itself, is controlled by a body of great landholders, is not true political liberty, it has at least the machinery of a free state, is compelled to promulgate the opinions of a free state — opinions, that, like drops of water, will, in time, wear away even the rock — and is certain to raise upa powerful body of dissentients, which, inthe end, may become in very fact the political and governing majority itself. In such a state of society, therefore, if all that is extorted from the prince be not really gain to the people, it has that appearance, accustoming men to reflect on their rights, and eventually securing a still nearer approach to the eternal principles of natural justice, which, in truth, contain the essence of political liberty. Let us now look at America. Here, the sovereignty of the people, or of a popular constituency, is both avowed and maintained. AU political power is expressly, periodically, and practically, representative ; not representative, as is pretended by the English writers and declaimers on constitutional l.iw, or on the principle that all power of this nature, whether derived from descent or not, is a trust, and to be exercised for the benefit of the whole ; but representative on this general and just principle, representative in form, and representative by the constant recurrence to the constituency for fresh authority ; in short, representative in fact. The judiciaries are no practical exception to this rule, for they perform no original acts of government, are purely interpreters of the law on principles which the other representatives may alter at will, and discharge their trust under such responsibilities as to render abuses very unlikely to occur. They, too, are practically repre sentative, through the fact that the constituency has retained a power to set them aside, or to modify their organization, and their trusts, at pleasure. These facts are^true, both as respects the states, and as it respects the f^. OF LIBERTY. 135 are employed, but just the contrary, by proving that the people are determined their will shall be enforced. Liberty does not deral government. It follows that every trust committed to each branch of the government is to be literally exercised by that particular branch, and by no other, else is the fundamental law violated not only in its letter, but in its most vital principle. For the legislative branches to pretend to check the executive branch, in such a policy, in the exercise of its legitimate functions, is not liberty in any shape, since it is a direct attack, not on the incumbent (though such may be its pretended object), but on the rights of the constituents, who have chosen to make this distribution of power, as well as to select the different agents. No truth can be clearer than the fact, that the delegate who exceeds his authority trespasses on that of his principal. Now, while parliament may wrest power from the king, who is representative only by a powerless theory, in the interests of the nation, and consequently in those of liberty, the American legislature that wrests authority from an American executive, or in any manner impedes the exercise of his constitu tional trusts, invades the rights of a common superior. There is not even the excuse of a defective and otherwise irremediable organization for such a step, the constituencies having especially reserved to themselves the means of making all necessary changes. These truths, so evident by the very organization and condition of society, and so unanswerably proved by the letter of the constitution, become still more apparent, when we reflect on the consequences of their violation. Not only do the people gain, in effect, by the invasions of parliament on the au thority of the crown, but harmony in the action of government, an indis pensable requisite to peace at home and dignity abroad, is preserved by the right to dictate to the king whom he shall choose for his ministers. A continued collision between the legislative and executive powers of the state cannot exist in England, since the latter must be made to conform to the former. Before the revolution, means were found to make parliament conform to the will of the king ; since the revolution, means have been found to make the king conform to the will of parliament. But here, the reverse is exactly the pase. In England, ministerial conflicts are necessarily legis lative conflicts ; here, they are decided by the people, and ought to be con ducted only before the people. The American legislator, who suffer.s any considerations of effecting a change in the incumbency of the executive, in any manner, to influence even his public speeches, abuses his situation (though the rights of debate are protected), for he is not delegated to effect any such purpose, nor can he, as a legislator, be instrumental in producing such an end, without a complete perversion of the governing principle of the insti tutions, which infers that the represented are to impart their tone to the re presentatives, and not to receive it from them ! Abuses of this sort in debate, and performed by indirection, are perhaps inseparable from huiiian frailties. But surely we have not yet reached the pass, when, under the pretence of liberty ( ! ) one portion of a branch of the government can step out of its sphere, with impunity, and sit in judgment on the conduct of another branch of the government, by overt acts, as was the fact in the celebrated resolution of the senate, during the session of 1833 — 4 ! It matters nothing whether the president had or had not exceeded his powers, in the act whicti led to this vote, }f the senate be suffered 1S6 ERRONEOUS NOTIONS OF LIBERTY. mean license, either through franchises or through disorders, but an abiding authority in the body of a nation, to adapt their laws lo their necessities. openly to assume the power of censuring him when he is wrong, the time is not distant, when, to effect the ends of party, he will be censured when he is right. The consequences of a continuance of such a practice, — and, iinless firmly put down in the outset, practice it will become, — will be a confusion and a want of harmony among the several powers of the state, against which the constitution has provided no remedy, and which, in the end, will of necessity lead to further innovations, as a protection from its own abuses, and thus ultimately transfer from the constituent to the repre sentative, an authority that is inherently necessary to liberty. The schoolboy use of the epithet tyranny can delude no honest and reflecting American on these essential points. The very act which may be, and is essential to liberty, as government is instituted in England, becomes a most dangerous usurpa tion as government is instituted here. There is, moreover, no necessity for any such interference on the part of the legislature, the constitution having provided the judiciary as the guardian of all law whether fundamental or merely ministerial, reserving the people as arbiters in the last resort. There is but a single pretence for this legislative interference, and that is one which infers a radical defect in the most radical feature of the government, viz. an incom.petency in the constituency to discharge the duties which this very constituency has imposed on itself. The same truths apply to the use of the veto. It may be liberty in England to repress the exercise of the veto power in the crown, as separated from parliamentary majorities; while with parliamentary majorities it clearly becomes unnecessary. But in America, the veto is instituted in the inte rests of liberty. The greatest power and, of necessity, the power most to be apprehended in this country, is that of congress. The veto is given to the executive, therefore, that, as a representative of the entire constituency, he may check the greatest power of the state in the exercise of its authority. The fact that he is only one man, and that congress is composed of many men, gives additional grounds for sustaining him in the dischcirge of a duty so delicate ; since it is notorious, that in a really free state, there is far more danger to be apprehended from bodies ofmen, than from individuals. Our own history abounds with instances of the executives shrinking from the responsibility of doing their duties, on the one hand, and of legislative innovations on the other. Each measure is to be judged by its separate merits, as a matter of course, but I speak here of the abstract question. To accuse the executive of setting up his will arbitrarily against that of the numerous bodies which compose the two houses of congress, without reference to the merits or demerits of his reasons, and idly to coiflpare his wholesome authority with the nominal authority of which parliament has stripped the king, thereby centring, iu fact, all the powers of the state in one of its branches, is to quarrel with one of the most salutary of the expedients which have been devised to prevent this very accumulation of trusts here, and to assail one of the most whole some checks provided by the constitution. The popular reasoning, and popular feeling too, on these important ques- RETURN TO LA LORRAINE. 137 We passed by Hindelbank, on our way home (for so we term the temporary abodes in which we dwell in these distant countries), and cast many longing glances at the little rural church, that contains the admirable monument of Madame Langhans. In another hour, we alighted at la Lorraine, after a delightful excursion of eleven days, during which we had scarcely an hour of really bad weather; an advantage of rare occurrence in Switzerland, more especially among the mountains. Rain, indeed, is almost the only drawback on the pleasures of a summer residence in the cantons. LETTER XIV. Cantonal Courtesy. — Left Bank of the Aar. — Approach to Thun. — Power of opposing Invasion. — Proceed to Neuhaus. — An English Couple. — Unter seen. — An Aristocratic Guide, — Panoramic View from the Riigen. — An English Girl, — Valley of Interlachen. — ^Brienz. — Waterfalls. — Monetary System, — View from the Briinig. — Lungern, — Polity of Unterwalden. — Imperfection of the Confederated System, — Church of St. Nicholas de Fliie. — Crosses.— Sarnen. — Mistaken for an Englishman. Dear , The Swiss certainly surpass us in courtesy of manner when speaking of the sisterhood of cantons. I do not remember to have seen a coarse aUusion, a discourteous expression, or a sneer of any kind, in the remarks which frequentiy occur in tionS, among what are called the enlightened classes, go to show what I think must strike every man who has lived much out of his own country, how very far opinion is behind facts. W^hile the facts of this case are so pecu liarly American, or, to express myself with greater accuracy, would have been American, had not the constitution been so rudely violated, both in its spirit and in its letter, the opinions that have been uttered have been very generally English, I am aware that these are bold opinions to utter in a country where the mass has become so consolidated that it has no longer any integral parts ; where the individual is fast losing his individuality in the common identity ; and where, in apolitical sense, the only public is the p«Mjc sfrwam^ ,' 138 APPROACH TO THUN. the journals concerning the measures of their neighbours. I was much amused the other day at finding the people termed " The honourable public" in a proclamation. Tbe praise worthy canton of ," " The respectable canton," " The honourable canton," are very usual modes of designating a sister state. In America we presume on our common paren tage, fraternity, and identified existence, and too often treat each other with a homely familiarity, there being in truth less real difference (there is abundance of imaginary), between a skipper of Kennebunk and a planter of the Arkansas, than there frequentiy is lo be found between two Swiss peasants whose cottages may be seen in the same valley. After staying three days at la Lorraine, to " set our house in order," we left Berne, once more, for Thun. This time we took the left bank of the Aar, and were highly gratified with the views it presented. More chateaux, or rather more country-houses, appeared than in the former excursions; and as the eagerness for the grander scenery abates, we begin to find a thousand new beauties in tbe common landscapes. Those parts of Switzerland which are not absolutely among the mountains, may vie with the best portions of most other countries in simple rural scenery, possessing also, in addition to the ordinary features of all such views, the advantage of having a frame-work of the Jura, or of the Alps, or, as often happens, of both. In our drive lo Thun, the southern back ground of the charmingly rural country through which we tra velled was the brown side of the Stockhorn, a mountain that rises above the lake of Thun five thousand feet, or one-fourth higher iban Ihe highest peak of the Kaatskills, and nearly seven thousand above the sea. Behind this, again, hovered the sUvery peak of the Blumfis Alp, radiant, pure, and shining like a glory. The approach to Thun, on this side of the river, is much finer than that on the other. We crossed a wide plain, keeping the picturesque Utile old chateau directiy before us, like a lighthouse, and swept round tbe walls, nearly half a mile before we reached a gate. These walls are built of small stones, rough cast; and, as they are embattled, and are POWER OF OPPOSING INVASION. 139 well relieved by little circular towers, they, at least, help the scenery, which, I believe, is their chief merit. It is scarcely possible to fortify a town in Switzerland against the attacks of modern warfare, so many commanding positions lying near them all. Here and there, an exception is to be found ; but the true policy of this country is to meet the enemy at the threshold. The whole region is a great natural bastion; and France or Austria will be sure to offer succour, perhaps compel its acceptance, in the event of invasion by either party. The Swiss, however, have seen Russian battalions pouring through their defiles. The confederation has been formed and wiU be kept together more by outward pressure than by any natural cohesion. Could Savoy, Nice, the Tyrol, and the Vorarlberg be added to its territory, it would make a power quite capable of taking care of itself, and one altogether unique, by the conformation of the land, and the rustic habits of its people. As it is, " les honorables cantons" would be sadly troubled lo make bead against a vigorous combination, like that which partitioned Poland. For the second time, we were treated with so much in difference, to give it a soft term, at the principal inn, that we left the house for la Croix Blanche. The guide, who was already engaged, manifested a good deal of surprise at this movement, intimating that we were quitting the genteelest house in the place. He was given to understand that less gentility and more civility would suit us belter. The change proved a good experiment, in the latter important particular, at least; though the good people of la Croix Blanche seemed quite as much surprised as the guide himself, at finding Eng lish who were willing to favour them with their custom. You know we usuaUy pass for English on the continent of Europe; and I have long since given up the attempt to explain. In France, however, one gets on pretty well, by observing that he came from the country to which the French gave indepen dence some fifty years since. So completely are the French persuaded of the efficacy of their interference in the revolu tion, that when lasl^ed an intelligent French friend to name 140 ENGLISH FELLOW TRAVELLERS. the batties ia which their troops were engaged, the answer was, " Mais dans toutes les batailles, n'est-ce pas .'" France is much too rich in victories to trespass on our small claims to glory. At Thun, Iparted from the rest of my fellow-lraveUers, who returned home, whUe, provided with a walking-staff (an ashen pole, six feet in length, and shod with iron), and accompanied by the guide, who carried my knapsack, I took oars again for Neuhaus. I had engaged a boat for myself, and was just " shoving off," when a proposition was made by an Englishman to be of the party, with his wife and daughter. It would have been uncivil to refuse, and I con sented. The wife was quiet and simple ; but the husband was a thorough John BuU, who appeared to regard even the peak of the Jung Frau with sullen contempt, as if there were better things in its way in England. When I occasionally pointed out a strong feature in the view, bis manner of as senting seemed lo say, " it was pretty well for Switzerland ;" and once when I drew his attention to a singularly beautiful effect produced by the sun on a mountain top, he muttered a reply, and immediately began to tell me how cheap mutton was in Herefordshire. His wife, a meek-looking little woman, appeared to acquiesce in all he said, from habit; but I thought she turned longing eyes towards the mountains, and I make no doubt that their visit to Switzerland is owing to her secret admiration of nature. He probably takes bis revenge for the trouble she has given him by dilating constantiy, when they are alone, on the excellence of the cotelettes they might be quietiy eating at home. I was not sorry to get rid of my male companion at Neuhaus. He conscientiously offered to pay his fair proportion of the price of the boat ; but, provoked al his mutton, I declined ac cepting his money, a littie cm grand seig7ieur. He was evi dently both surprised and mortified ; when, to relieve him, I took back half of that which had just been given to the boat men. We parted civilly, and I was honoured with a stare, and a profound bow; for indifference to money is certain to AN ARISTOCRATIC GUIDE. Ill command respect in England. We had not got five rods from the parly, before the guide whispered that the Englishman had not paid enough, his share coming to three-fifths instead of one-half. He had been mortified at my folly in refusing lo take any thing at first, and almost as much grieved at my igno rance, in not knowing better how to balance accounts. These little touches of national character are amusing enough — but I know not how it is, the littlenesses one meets with among these sublime mountains occasion more disgust than they do in tamer countries ! The afternoon was fine, and , I determined to pass the re mainder of the day in exploring the valley which lies between the lakes of Thun and Brienz, and which is very properly named Interlachen (between lakes). To avoid the crowd of travellers who frequent the inn at this place, I took a room at Unterseen for the night. They who throng baths, lodging- houses, and fashionable places of resort, in a country like Switzerland, are usuaUy ill qualified to enjoy its beauties, and I avoid them as so many blemishes. It is almost primd facie evidence of unfitness for the scenery, lo be caught in such a situation. Having secured a quiet room, I saUied forth, at tended by the guide, a veteran who had passed his life in such service, relieved of his knapsack. As we walked onward, the old man began to converse, and I encouraged him, in order to come at the kernel as quickly as possible. In the outset, I discovered that he held democracy almost as cheap as a par venu who had completely forgotten tbe struggles of his own probation. In speaking of the popular cantons, he observed that men like himself were permitted to have a voice in public affairs. This, certainly, was a home thrust, and it was an ar gument that I was forced lo laugh at, in spite of a determi nation to discuss the matter gravely. German was his mother tongue ; and I inquired how he liked the Germans ? " Not as well as the French," was his answer. " But the French overran the country, and carried away all your treasure, and otherwise much abused Switzerland !" " All very true ; but then the soldiers treated us better than the Germans. In the 142 VIEW FROM THE RUEGEN. houses they were polite to the wOmen, and they can live on a little bread and an onion. Monsir, a German will eat as much as three Frenchmen." There was no resisting the latter argument, especially in a country where half the population rarely laste meat. This feeling towards the French, as a people, is very ge neral in the countries they have invaded. I have not been in Spain since the last war; but many who have, tell me the French are often more esteemed by the people of the country than their English allies. Here, the preference is generally given to the French troops, over the Germans and Russians, the people distinguishing very properly between the acts of those who lead and those who merely follow. All this, how ever, is no more than a very common consequence between manner and matter. No great body of men was probably ever more wanting in the first principles of morality than the armies of the French revolution, and yet, retaining the suaviter of the national character as it then enisled, they were enabled to turn it to belter account than probably would have been the case with more honesty and less tact. - We walked to the mouth of the vast gorge which leads to wards Lauterbrunnen, and ascended a little hill called the Rugen, which stands nearly before the entrance. I say a hill, for so it seemed lo the eye amid the grandeur by wbich it was surrounded ; but on ascending it, it proved to be in fact a mountain nearly as high as our own " Vision." I was well rewarded for the trouble, by a noble panorama. The Wengern Alp appeared low in the throng of giants by which it was overtopped, and I could hardly persuade myself it was really the mountain, whence the lower world had looked so distant and diminutive. Behind it tbe peaks of tbe Jung Frau and of the two Eigers were glittering in the heavens, under the light of a setiing sun, whose rays seemed to fall frozen from their snowy sides. Near this little mountain is a ruin and a meadow, where he peasants have been accustomed to keep their rural games. A f^te of this nature is spoken of in connexion with Mad. de AN ENGLISH GIRL. 143 Stael, who was present ; but what is Mad. de Stael herself, much less her humours, in competition with the sublime altar that God has here reared in his own honour! I observed larches near thirty feet high, growing on the crumbling walls. The lake of Brienz is about as long as the Otsego, is mate rially wider, though much less indented by bays. Here the resemblance ceases. Instead of being surrounded by hills some five or six hundred feet high, it is imbedded among mountains that divide the clouds. These masses are often nearly perpendicular, though chdlets cling to their precipices, and rich waterfalls stream down their sides. An island or two would make it perfect. A female voice, singing an English air, was heard in the thicket as we returned. Presently we met a pretty young English girl in the narrow path, her bonnet dangling from a finger, like one who was out on a careless evening stroH near her paternal abode. The party to which she belonged was not far behind. Her notes ceased as I came in view, and the bow I made in passing was disregarded. She mistook me for an Englishman, and did not dare observe this simple act of civility — nay, of human feeling — even in Switzerland, lest 1 might not be of precisely as elevated a class as herself ." at home." Had I been mistaken for a Continental European, the case would have been different; though it may be ques tioned, had my real origin been known, whether I should have escaped without a frown. These rencontres of travellers are rarely agreeable. The presence of strangers who appear to be engaged in low- country pursuits, mid such scenery, produces on me the im pression of an unpicturesque irreverence for nature. I had just left a spot, too, where a young Swiss had been in beau tiful keeping with the scenery. There is a small meadow in a dale near the ruin. The last rays of the .sun were stream ing across it, and a pretty peasant girl, with dishevelled hair, was raking together the scanty crop of grass. She was en tirely alone, and seemed as innocent and as contented as she evidently felt secure. After all, she might have been out spe- 144 INTE.NLED SCALE OP THE JUNG FRAU. culaling on the picturesque ; a suspicion that rudely obtruded itself, when we met the English party. As we descended the httle mountain, several boats were seen pulling towards our own strand, and the evening, as the English say, was truly delicious. I had forgot to tell you that I clambered into the ruined tower, where I frightened two black-looking and most iU-omened birds from their roots. I hope no evil will come of it! These mountains sometimes produce sudden and startling effects. This evening, while retiring to bed, and after the candle was extinguished, I was struck with the sombre ap pearance of the night. Going to a window, all seemed dark and gloomy, when, raising my eyes gradually to the zenith in quest of a star, 1 found they had been ranging along the side of the black pile which frowns upon Unterseen. The night, in fact, was clear and cloudless. The next morning found me oa the way lo Interlachen be fore the shops were open. While sauntering in front of the great gorge, in wailing for the guide, and looking at its noble mysteries, the honest old fellow came up, big with the intelli gence that the hunters and guides of Grindewald were in ear nest in an intention lo scale the Jung Frau; and that the attempt was to be made within a day or two. So many strangers were disposed to undertake the adventure, he added, that these mountaineers were incited lo anticipate them, for the honour of Helvetia. It wiU give you some notion of the scale of Alpine nature, as weU as of the purity of the atmos phere at this elevation, when I tell you that this morning, though distant from the spot more than three leagues, perhaps three and a half, I distinctiy saw the little ovenshaped bole in tbe snow, whence the avalanche which has already been de scribed had issued! I could not perceive that it seemed any smaUer than when viewed from the Wengern Alp. It is pos sible, however, that more snow may have fallen from the same spot since our passage of the mountain; for I observed that a rock on the Wengern itself, which was then covered, was now bare. VaLLEV op INTERLACHEN. Ui " The valley of Interlachen is ornamented by some as fine walnuts as I remember to have seen. Most of the fashionables were not out of their beds in the great lodging-house, only two or three drowsy-looking domestics being afoot. I did meet two young ladies, however, walking beneath the fine trees; though they appeared lo be communicating secrets rather than admiring nature, as the tongue of one was in ear nest motion, and the eyes of both were riveted on the ground — just in the way one would expect a soul-absorbing confi dence to be given and received. The boatmen were ready, and in half an hour we were on the lake of Brienz. There are no vineyards nor grain on the precipitous mountains by which it is surrounded; though Al pine pastures cover many of their sides, extending, in a few instances, quite to the summits. Brienz stands immediately beneath a mountain; a perilous position in Switzerland, as has been proved by its own disas ters. As the boat approached, I counted one hundred and twenty brown roofs, besides the church, which is of stone, and which stands on a high rock a little without the cluster of houses. Several of the cascades that had been seen in Au gust were now dry, the snows that supplied them having en tirely melted. A torrent runs through the viUage, which, four years before, had swept away a house or two, drowning the inhabitants. Accidents from lightning, sacs d'eau, raging torrents, landslips, or rather falling rocks, and avalanches, are the regular Swiss calamities. To this may be added hail. I do not remember to bave told you that there are companies of mutual assurance against the effects of hail, in some parts of Europe, and in this country in particular!. This is a pass of circumspection to which we have not yet reached ; though I believe we have something like it against losses from horse- thieves! On the whole, our companies argue the most advanced stage of civilization. The boatmen pointed out a waU near the shore that rose about three feet above the surface of the lake, and said they had passed over it with their boat this very summer. They 10 146 VIEW OF MEYRINGEN. speak of the present as being both a warm and a dry season, both of which are great advantages in Swiss traveUing. We left Brienz on foot, passing the extensive debris of two wide torrents soon after quitiing the place. At one of them I was told a vUlage had been entirely swept away, and children had been saved of whose parentage nothing was known; the latter bearing the name of the village. One of our boatmen was descended from this unknown stock. After all, he is only in the condition of nine -tenths of mankind, in being ignorant of bis ancestry. We soon left the highway, beginning to ascend through broken pastures, among which cottages were plentifully scat tered. After passing a rude little hamlet, from which there was a fine view down the lake, the ascent became more rapid. We next entered the woods, and took the mountain era cor- niche, by a very good bridle-path. A place was passed, where the face of an overhanging rock bad fallen across the route covering six or seven acres below with fragments ; still it was not easy to trace the spot on the precipice above, whence the vast masses had come. A valley may be fiUed, or ruined here, and the mountain from wbich the desolation descended shall stand, apparently as undiminished in magnitude as it is uncon scious of the ruin it has produced. From this point, where I stopped to rest, a part of the lake came beautifully into the view, and three brilliant waterfalls were in sight, leaping from pre cipices of dizzy height. Even the rushing sound of one came to us very distinctly across the broad valley. It descended about 700 feet, jumping playfuUy from shelf to shelf. The whole plain beneath was covered with dark barns, or chAlets, of which I counted three hundred. The ascent was gradual and easy, the path running beneath tbe shades of beeches, which we found very grateful, the day being warm, and the labour, though not severe, nearly con- slant. Debris abounded, but trees were growing among them all; a sure sign that ages had gone by since their fall. Al length a point on the mountain was reached, that com manded a view of Meyringen, with the whole of its rich bottom. UNTERWALD. ' UI Unfortunately there was no mist, and the scene was less en chanting than when first beheld. The edge of novelty, more over, was taken off, and I found myself growing critical and fastidious : perhaps it would be better to say, more reasona ble, and less hasty in my tastes ; less under the influence of surprise and wonder, and more under that of the faculties of the mind. Travelling is an art, as weU as another, and the experienced traveller has some such advantage over him who is setting up the business, as the connoisseur has over the mere tyro, in the fine arts. I had ceased to hunt for drapery, and fingers, and noses, and the other accessaries of the picture, to look more for expression and the thought. The Aar brawled immediately beneath the point of rock just mentioned. Its bed had been nearly filled with debris washed down by the Alpbach, a torrent on tbe other side of the valley, and its waters were finding their way past it, through fifty little temporary channels, that they were as busy as ants in cutting for themselves. An unsightly swamp was likely to be the consequence. All this was lost lo the eye, however, in traveUing by the road beneath. Here we struck off, nearly at right angles, toward the sum mit of the Briinig,* which is the name of the pass. Il took us just twenty minutes more to reach the pastures and meadows, that lie in the gorge, between two high mountains, which, quite luckUy, it was not necessary to scale. The place was retired and pretty, vast fragments of rock being scattered among the verdant grass, as if tbe spot had formerly been a field of battle, where mountains had discharged their artillery at each other. The descent now commenced, or rather we ceased to as cend. Soon after, I met our old acquaintance, the bear, carved on a stone ; a sign I Was once more on the borders of the great canton. At this point we entered the territory of Unter- wald, the country of Winkelried, and one of the little districts that originally resisted the power of Austria. There are a few chalets, or rather cottages, on the pass, and at one of them I * Or, Brlining, 10* 148 MONETARY SYSTEM, obtained a draught of milk, so delicious, that it wUl be remem^ bered long after many a gorgeous banquet wUl be forgotten. Keeping in view the homely hospitality of the American woods, I scarcely dared offer to pay for il, in a place that looked so romantic and unsophisticated, but, sooth to say, the money did not come amiss. I believe, as a rule, that the Swiss may be considered, very generally, as sufficientiy civilized to be paid. One knows that these things depend on tbe frequency of the demands, and, on the whole, he who has the means lo pay is commonly aU the better off for being required lo pay ; yet the act of constantiy filling the palm appears singularly out of place amid this wild and magnificent scenery, where one could wish no coin were current, but that which has been stamped in the mint of nature. While on the subject of money, it may be well lo let you understand something of tbe materiel of this country. In the first place, having no banks, there is no paper in circu lation; the bankers are principally dealers in exchanges, though I presume they lend money loo, making their profits in the difference between what they pay and what they re ceive. Each canton has the power of striking its own money, and each canton, I believe, does; though many of the smaller limit their issues to the very lowest denominations of coin. The old French crown, which has almost entirely been su perseded in France itself by the five-franc piece, is very common here, having, as I understand, a small additional value in Switzerland. The old Louis d'or, of twenty-four francs value, is lo be bad also, and is the most convenient for travellers. Most of the cantons issue crowns, or four- franc pieces, and gold coins corresponding lo the Louis and double Ljouis d'or in value, but they are not very abundant. Many of the smaller coins will not pass out of their own cantons, while in many of the cantons even the base German coins are taken. The French money passes all over Europe, — I should say, England alone excepted. The Swiss franc has the value of a franc and a half French, a circumstance tiiat frequentiy misleads strangers who come from France. VIEW FROM THE BRUNIG. M9 When the rent of la Lorraine was named to me in francs, I thought it particularly low ; but when the payment in ad vance was made, as is usual with strangers, I had reason to think it particularly high. On quitting the frontier house of Berne, the mUk-money of which has induced a digression that you may find out of place, we proceeded through the meadows and pasture-lands as before. I observed a quick,':;' anxious look about the eyes of the guide, as we walked briskly forward, but without in the least suspecting the cause. A few minutes, however, sufficed to explain it. We mounted a little ascent, and came to a small chapel that stood on the edge of a precipice, and at a point where the path plunged suddenly into the vaUeys of the two Unterwaldens. Of course there was a view. You have read so much already of surprises, and of the effects of extraordinary and unexpected scenery, that I al most fear to recur lo the subject. But the truth will not be said unless I tell you this was the surprise, before all others. In most of the previous cases something extraordinary had been expected, and, although the fact so much exceeded ex pectation in this instance, nothing of very uncommon beauty had been looked for. I knew the Briinig was a celebrated pass, and that much had been written about its beauties ; but I bad thought its reputation was derived from the views on the side of Meyringen and the Oberland, which would cer tainly be highly esteemed in any other country, but with wbich, by comparison, 1 bad been a filtie disappointed. I now discovered that the Briinig had charms of an entirely new description, and that its northern aspect is immeasurably the finest. As soon as the delight of being so completely astonished had a little subsided, I quilted the path, and took a seat be neath the shade of a tree, that stood on the very verge of the precipice, to enjoy the scene more at leisure. The whole picture was in one long, straitened valley, that expanded a littie however in the distance, and which was bounded north by the savage Pilatus, and the smiling Righi. The near view 150 VIEW FROM THE BRUNIG, embraced the village, meldows, and lake of Lungern. The latter, looking blue and dark, laved tbe side of one of the most exquisitely rural mountains eye ever beheld ; the whole of its broad breast being in verdant pastures or meadows, and teeming with brown chalets. This foreground lay on a ter race, a league or two in length, and half a league wide, several hundreds of feet beneath the spot where I had seated myself, and as many above the more distant lake and the plains of Stantz and Sarnen, which formed the background. Great depth was given lo the whole by this accidental for mation ; and yet the atmosphere was so pure as scarcely to leave the outiines of a cottage indistinct. The alluring lints of this view were among its most extra ordinary beauties ; for whUe the mountain appeared to cast a deep shadow athwart the lake, the water playfully threw its cerulean hue upward against the mountain. There was indeed a rare bluish tint cast athwart the whole valley, so unusual as scarcely to seem natural, and yet so soft as to pro duce none but the most agreeable effects. It was not unlike that vivid, unnatural atmosphere we find in some of the old Italian paintings, already mentioned, and in which the ultra marine has stood after tbe other colours have faded. In the the midst of il all the verdure was exquisitely delicate, the colours of which I speak seeming to exist in the two fluids of air and water, and to temper rather than alter those of other objects. The lake of Lungern is about a league in length, and the descent to the level of that of Sarnen, as its northern end, is so sudden and rapid as to give it the appearance of being dammed. This is literally the fact, though nature has been the workman. The district is at this moment engaged in cutting a tunnel through the rocks, with a view to lower the surface of the pretty littie basin, by which means it is calcu lated that a thousand acres of excellent meadow will be ob tained. I exclaimed against this innovation on the pictu resque when it was told me; but, after all, the banks of the lake are so precipitous, and the water so deep, that less LUNGERN, 151 injury wUl be done to the view*than might at first be sup posed. At all events the case is hopeless, if the iuhabitanls of this valley see a plausible reason for anticipating, from the experiment, so large an addition to their meadows. In their eyes, a cheese is a more beautiful object than a lake or a rock ; and such, I apprehend, is the governing rule for the appre ciation of the sublime and beautiful among the mass of man kind everywhere. A love of the picturesque, unhappily, does not depend on the first wants of nature, whUe the love of bread and cheese does. I complained to the guide that Ebel had not done justice to the Briinig. Hereupon the old man broke out into a phi lippic against all books, gazetteers, and maps, intimating pretty plainly that the word guide should never be com pounded with any other, if the traveller did not wish lo be misled. Ke illustrated his position by admitting that, al though he bad passed through the cantons a hundred times, if compelled to compress his knowledge in a book, he should make but a bad hand of it. I have certainly found a good many mistakes in Ebel; but, on the whole, it is one of the most accurate works of the kind I know. In descending from the high place into the inhabited world, the mind was rudely recalled to the failings and wants of mortality by a littie girl, who scampered across a meadow towards a gate, which she succeeded in shuUing just in lime to ask something for opening it again as we arrived. At Lun gern we halted a moment to refresh ourselves. This place is Catholic, as indeed are all the Forest Cantons, or the four littie stales that were the nucleus of Swiss independence — not of Swiss liberty, you will remember; the distinction being all-important. The churchyard was glittering with littie gilded iron headstones (excuse the bull), many of which were ornamented with miniatures of the deceased. Thus a man and his wife would appear side by side, on a plate let into the iron, which was usually a good deal wrought. On some of these plates I counted not less than six or eight very unsophisticated miniatures, which probably represented the 152 POLITY OF UNTERWAIvDEN. dead of an entire family, 'i^nie were quite faded with age, and others, again, were fresh and tawdry. The road lay along the eastern shore of the lake, and a most beautiful path it was. As we came to the northern ex tremity of this exquisite sheet of water, the manner of its for mation was completely visible. A fall of part of a mountain has literally dammed the upper valley; and the water, after ac cumulating to a certain height, flows over the lowest part ol the broken and uneven rocks, into the next level beneath. The good peasants, therefore, are rather restoring nature lo what she originally was, than innovating on her laws, by cut ting their tunnel. From this point we got a view of the valley of Ober Wal den, or Upper Walden — this canton being subdividedinto two of those communities that our nullifiers, with so much em phasis, call independent and sovereign states — imperium in im^erJo—whichare termed the Upper and the Lower Walden. Lungern is merely a part of the former. In extent, Unter walden, for such is the cantonal name, is the thirteenth of the twenty-two sisters, and in population the twentieth. It is in the very heart of the confederation, and the entire population may be about twenty thousand souls, who are pretty nearly divided between the two great internal powers. The govern ments of both are essentially democratic; though that of Lower Unterwald being more sophisticated than its sister, while it is pure and integral in the source of its power, has the most practical checks. In this half-canton the citizen is admitted to his political rights al the age of eighteen. The laws are all passed in original assemblies of the people, which, after aU, in numbers do not exceed many of our own town-meetings. We have very many townships that contain ten thousand inha bitants, and Upper LTnterwalden has not more than nine thou sand. Boston, previously lo its incorporation as a city, you will remember, contained more than fifty thousand. These little communities have many primitive fundamental laws. Thus, in Lower Unterwalden the pain of death is pro- nounce4e"ly hjf what is called the "Council of Blood," which THE CONFEDERATE SYSTEM. 153 is composed of the Simple Coundl^r a body formed for other objects, of certain magistrates and counsellors, and of all the citizens who have attained the age of thirty years. There are very sonorous lities in this little country, which has stadtholders and counsellors without number. I should think the principle of rotation in office of little practical utility here, for one does not very well see where so small a popula tion is to find incumbents for so many places. In such a state of society one would soon tire of political saltation. The peo ple are very generally pastoral, and of the simplest habits, by necessity, as weU perhaps ashy incUnation. They are rigid Catholics; and the fact is often cited as a proof that the reli gion of Rome is not necessarily opposed to the most extended political liberty. No very conclusive argument is to be drawn, either in favour of or against any particular system, by the example of communities situated like ibiese Unterwalden has been an independent country since the thirteenth century; but it would surely be absurd to look into the local institutions for tbe means which have enabled a people so weak to main tain for so long a time their separate sovereignty, while so many powerful states have been overrun, parcelled, or destroy ed in the interval. Switzerland itself exists as a distinct con federation by the common consent of ber neighbours, and the preservation of the particular rights of its several parts have been the consequence of an imperious necessity, heightened by the prejudices of origin and even of religion, rather than from any especial merit in the institutions, or in the people. Tbe country has not been worth the cost of conquest, sufficing barely lo give' an humble subsistence to the inhabitants, and possessing no other political value than that of a frontier ; a character it is probably better able to preserve inviolate as a neutral, than as a dependant. It is not improbable, however, that the religion of these small cantons may indirectly have been instrumental in maintaining their independence of each other, and that personal liberty is the boon accorded as a reward for the sacrifice; for a great and enduring sacrifice it 134 RELIGION OF THE is, in the Swiss, to maintairnSie confederated form of govern ment, as a moment's reflection will show. For a nation of hmited extent, and tolerably identified in terests, the confederated form possesses scarcely an advantage, while it necessarily brings with it many peculiar disadvant ages. Diversity of laws, want of unity, embarrassments in the cur rency, the frequent recurrence of frontiers, organised means for internal dissensions, and a variety of similar sources of evil, are, beyond a doubt, the ordinary price that is paid for the confederated form of government. This is proved by Ger many, by our own early experience, and is daily felt in Swit zerland. These evils are even materially increased in this confederacy by its diminutive size, and by the great number of its members. All the liberal and enlightened Swiss, with whom I have conversed, admit that the present system is im perfect. Most of them, it is true, are opposed to consolidation, for the inhabitants of the towns object lo having their policy brought down to the level of that of the mere mountaineers ; but they desire a Union like our own, in place of the Confe deration, — a central government, that, for certain common objects, can act directiy on the people, without the interference of agents, who derive their authority from a different source. In short, it may be said, that, in Switzerland, there is a con stant natural tendency, dependent on the force of their true interests, to unite more closely, but which is violently and suc cessfully resisted by the mere strength of habits and prejudices. The great, affluent, and populous communities are all of the reformed religion; Zurich, Rerne, Bile, Schaffhausen, Vaud, NeufchAtel, and Geneva, being essentiaUy Protestant cantons. These seven slates contain nearly, if not quite half, of the entire population of Switzerland, and probably much more than half its wealth. AppenzeU, St. Gall, the Grisons, Argovie, and Thurgovie, are nearly equally divided between the two churches; and it follows, that a consolidation, or a very inti mate union even, would give a preponderance to the Protes tant interest. In addition, Catholicism avoids discussion, and DIFFERENT CANTONS 155 it would be a part of its natural pohcy to keep its folds as dis tinct as possible from all others. I infer from those facts, that the church of Rome would find sufficient motives for permit ting tbe simple mountaineers of the Forest Cantons to main- lain their democracy, on condition that they will insulate the church. General deductions are never to be drawn from par ticular facts. The political tendencies of the Romish church, or proofs of its spiritual liberality, are not to be sought in these remote and little important communities, overshadowed, as they are, by the greater influence of their powerful Protestant neighbours, but in those great countries where it is uncon trolled, and can independently carry out its real policy. At Tockenburg, we were told, the two sects use the same build ing; and I have witnessed a simUar toleration at Berne. Yet at Rome itself, notwithstanding the great importance of travel lers to that decaying town, the Protestants receive it as an act of grace that they are permitted to worship God after their own forms, at all ! The most purely democratical cantons, beyond a question, are Catholic cantons. StUl their democracy is the result of accidental circumstances, rather than of principles ; for some of these very states rule dependencies, peopled by their rela tives, friends, and neighbours, as political vassals.* Freedom is obtained by two great processes. In the one case, the facts precede opinion; in the other, opinion precedes the facts. The first is always the safest, and generally the most abiding ; tbe latter, the most elevating and ennobling. English liberty, and, by obvious connexion, our own, has the former origin; French, Spanish, German, and Pbrtuguese liberty, whatever there may be of it, has the latter. We enjoy the advantage of antiquity, and, consequentiy, of a greater degree of ad vancement; but I think it wiU be found, in the end, that the latter wiU be tbe most consistent, since, if they have not com menced in a way to ensure moderation and safety, they have attacked the citadel of prejudice, and will not be so liable to * Schwytz seceded, temporarily, from the confederation, in 1832, to maintain this unjust supremacy. 156 ST. NICHOLAS DE FLUE. run into contradictions between fact and opinion, by walking back wards ; moving one way, while their eyes are cast along another. Nothing strikes the foreigner more unpleasantiy, on visiting America, if we can credit their own accounts, than finding us practising on one set of principles, and talking and feeling under the influence of its converse! The Catholic cantons of Switzerland are probably demo cratic, because they had no available substitute for the prince they set aside, when they rejected the house of Hapsbourg. A community of herdsmen could not furnish a prince, and they quietly settled down into that form of government which was the most easy of attainment, and the most natural to their condition. So far from the circumstance of their being Ca tholic proving any thing in favour of the political liberality of Catholicism, their church itself is, in a great degree, owing to the want of a true spirit of liberty. Religious toleration is an inevitable consequence of political liberty, and, in point of fact, the reformation was at first proscribed among them. Had their political condition originated in pi^hciples instead of fortuitous and unavoidable circumstances, its first care would have been to secure liberty of conscience. Education is greatly neglected, moreover, and superstitions are made to take the place of higher motives. All this shows that true liberty has no abode here. Catholicism may have deferred to facts that are too potent for its direct efforts, but in so doing, it has taken care lo keep opinion in leading-strings, and to render civil liberty a lure to its own views, rather than a frank associate. I stopped at a church by the way-side, that is named after the celebrated St. Nicholas de Fliie. It shows equally great devotion to sect, and to superstition. There are six altars, and a richness of decoration altogether beyond what one would expect in a country so poor and simple. The portico has some attempts at paintings, alfresco, allhough they may possibly be in oil, for I did not examine them minutely. The graves had the same head-irons, and little portraits, as those of Lungern. Bui I do not remember to have seen, anywhere SARNEN. 1.51 else, one mark of Catholic discipline that is to be met with here. The water-table of the church was fairly lined with human skulls ; a grinning and grim array ! I remarked as we came down the valley, crosses erected on nearly all the conspicuous heights. The effect of these memorials of the passion of Christ was both deep and touching, and, at times, they were singularly admonitory. While the eye was, perhaps, studying the brown side of a precipice, seeking to analyze its parts, it would sloWly rise to the summit, where, resting, for an instant, on a ragged outline of rock, drawn, as they all are, in strong relief, against a pure sky, faint thread-like lines would issue out of the void, until they stood distinctiy poised on the highest peak, emblems of the most sublime mystery that has been presented to the human mind. I saw a dozen in the course of the day, all looking like so many grateful signs of mercy that had de scended from heaven. We reached Sarnen, the capital of the Upper Unterwald, 06 Wold, or ob dem Wald, in Swiss German, in very good season, having come from Brienz on foot, a distance of some twenty miles. After securing a room at the principal inn, which was kept by some great statesman or other, I profited by an hour or two of day-light, to look at the place. Sarnen is a capital in every respect suitable to the country. On a littie height, near the town, once stood the castie of the bailiff of the house of Habsbourg, he who caused the eyes of Arnold de Melcbthal's father lo be put out. A terrace on this spot is now, and has been for ages, consecrated to the meetings of the Landsgemeinde, or convocations of the people ; the ori ginal assembly in which the nation convenes. Here also is the place where the population collect to shoot at the mark; an amusement, or rather a discipline, that is national. The rifle is truly a Swiss weapon, for in defending their rocky passes, it is the most efficient that can be employed. Every district has a place for the sharp-shooters to assemble, and a round target, about as large as the head of a hogshead, with 158 SARNEN. circles in paint, is to be seen near every hamlet. There is also often a house, for protection in bad weather. The view from the Landenberg is pretty, overlooking the village, and the broad meadows amid which it is seated. I counted one hundred and fifty roofs in the bourg. The town- haU, or state-house, is a square stone building, with six windows in a row. It is not unlike a better sort of country court-house in America. I examined the council-halls, which are plain and business-like. One of them is decorated with paintings of the fathers of the republic, of a most unsophisti cated perspective and colouring. The artists had been parti cularly fortunate in delineating tbe beards. One portrait of St. Nicolas de Fliie, however, was really good, being the offer ing of an errant son of the canton in modern times. Most of the houses have the shingles kept in their places by heavy stones, d la Suisse, and lake, as a specimen of rustic simplicity, the fact that some women were breaking flax in tbe vestibule of the church. The Righi and Mount PUatus limited the sight towards the north, while the mountains of the Oberland rose above the pass of the Briinig in the south. The near view was that of an extensive plain, surrounded by stern and lofty Alps. Tbe inn was crowded, travellers arriving from the Righi, and Lucerne, until night. We all supped in a common room, and among, the rest was a party of French, who conversed in bad English, with an evident desire to display. I gathered from their discourse, that they had lately been travelling in England. Mistaking me for an Islander, they began to compliment the country in a way that alarmed my modesty and forced from me a disclaimer. The effect of my saying I was not an Englishman, was sufficiently ludicrous. At first they seemed to doubt it, as they were pleased to express it, on account of the purity of my pronunciation; but, on receiving a grave protestation of the truth of what they had been told, coupled with the fact, that I had never even put foot in England untU I had reached my pre sent stature, and that eight or nine months, at different periods, MISTAKEN FOR AN ENGLISHMAN, 159 within twenty years, made the extent of all the time I had ever passed in the island, admiration became coupled with envy. I was cross-questioned, closely as good breeding would at all permit, as to tbe manner in wbich I had acquired thelanguage. "Perhaps, Monsieur'' s father or mother was English?" "Neither; nor grandfathers nor grandmothers, for many ge nerations." "Monsieur may have been aided by some simi larity in the construction of his native tongue to the Enghsh?" "There is some resemblance certainly." A pause followed, in expectation that they were about to be told what that country was. I continued mute. "Monsieur must have commenced learning the language very early?" " I have spoken it from childhood." " It is a great advantage." " In the country in which I was born and educated, we all learn the English in childhood." De grands yeux, and looks of distrust. Thinking it time to retreat, I wished them good night, in bad French, and hurried off. As my passport was in my pocket, and these good democrats trouble no one with their police regulations, I escaped without detection. The most curious part of this little occurrence was the fact, that all this time, "great and glorious" America, and the " twelve miUions," were no more thought of, than you would think of a trading factory on the coast of Africa in enumerating tbe countries that speak French ! When an Englishman speaks of his countrymen, meaning the people of the nation, he says in a lordly way, the English, orEngUshmen; but tbe Scot is obliged to bring himself in under the denomination of "Britons," "the British," or " British subjects." In like manner, when a European makes an allusion to the civilized worldihe invariably says, " Europe," as in "European civilization," "European reputation," "Eu ropean intelligence." America is never dreamt of I have several times observed looks of surprise, when I have spoken of " Christendom," in making similar allusions. Whatever may be the case on grave occasions, the European, in his or dinary discourse, does not appear to admit the western hemi sphere at all within the pale of his civilization. mo LETTER XV. stantz. — Female Costume.— Three Travellers. — Road to Stanztad. — ^Lake of Lucerne. — Stanztad. — Proceed by Boat towards Brunnen. — Dange rous Positions for Dwellings. — .Accident at Weggis. — District of Gersau. t — Brunnen. — The Griitli. — Walter Furst's Conspiracy. — Dangers of the Lake of Lucerne, — Town of Schwytz, — Scewen. — Catastrophe at Goldau. Rotenthurm. — Alsacian Pilgrims. — Pile of Buildings resembling St, Peter's at Rome. My dear , ' The foUowing morning, I proceeded to Stantz, the capital of the other Unterwalden, before breakfast. I had met, higher in the valley, a diminutive of the Schwytz cap already men tioned, but here the costume was entirely changed ; tbe girls having the hair clubbed behind, and decorated with red ri bands, while the matrons had the club ornamented with white rosettes. Many of the latter seemed to have literally pulled their hair out by the roots, in the effort to draw it tightiy back into this club, or ball. I saw four, who certainly bad not a hundred fibres left among them all, and one was actually bald, -with the exception of the back of the head, where there was a dirty rosette, attached lo some down. A few wore flat straw hats also, and I stUl saw one or two of tbe cock's combs. The guide was of opinion that the frost had killed the hair at the roots, in the case of the bald ladies ! The noble Arnold de Winkelried has a statue in the square, snwhich he is represented embracing the heads of the Austrian lances. The town is both larger and more modern than Sarnen, and the principal church, taste apart, is quite as fine and as magnificent as any thing we are accustomed lo see al home. At breakfast we were an EngUshman, a Scot, an Irishman, and myself We three first were in the same party, while my plate was put near them, but on a different napkin. I STANZTAD, 16l was much amused by my neighbours, who were complete il lustrations of their several countries. The Englishman was magisterial and authoritative ; the Scot, close, wily, and acute; the Irishman, garrulous, eager, kfunny, and warm-hearted. The two last took little notice of me, but the first watched all my movements narrowly, and, as I travelled with a guide to myself, he was apparently disposed to open some communica tions between us. I really think I should have been honoured with some act of civility or other, had I not made the unlucky mistake of offering him a piece of toast from my stores, when he had been calfing in vain for a fresh supply from the kit chen. The offer was coldy declined, and from that moment I was set down as " a nobody," or " a shoving fellow," and of course cut. I ought, in justice, however, to add, that an Eng lishman of station would have understood the civility, and met il in a better spirit. It is only the class who live, as it were, between wind and water, daily exposed to intrusions on their gentility, who are so wary of their privileges. Still, as ¦ the latter is by far the most numerous class, the trait just de scribed has really become national. Good breeding is so un obtrusive, so little apt to indulge in display at every plausible opening, that it is no wonder common minds, acting under a common training, should not always know when mere na tural feeling is to be permitted to assert its rights. I left my three cousins murdering French with the inn keeper, and getting into a char, took the way to Stanztad. The road lay across a perfect plain, or rather through a basin in tbe mounlains. The Rotzberg stood in our left, crowned by a ruin ; but, though actually nine hundred feet high, il looked like a mere hillock by the side of the piles that enclose tbe valley. Stanztad is placed on tbe side of one of those arms which render the lake of Lucerne so beautiful. To the right was the route into the main sheet of water ; opposite, a deep bay, with Winkel at its head; and on the left, another, that leads to Alp- nach. To these must be added the bend towards Lucerne, and the long, narrow arm that conducts to Kiisnacht. There Ji !02 EXCURSION ON THE is a point on th'e lake near Stanztad, where its waters may be seen retiring in five different directions. The main lake itself is as irregular and beautiful as these deep bays. Its first course is north ; then, by a narrow pass, it flows west, headed by a false lake ', then north again through another pass ; thence westerly by a most graceful curvature that keeps the curiosity always alive. As the foot is approached, one does not know, among so many windings, which is the main lake, and wbich are the bays, for the latter are actuaUy larger than the former. The distance from Lucerne lo Fluelen, embracing the whole of the direct route, is about twenty-three mUes. While a boat was preparing at Stanztad, I praised the beauty of the lake to my old guide. He assented, for not only all the lakes but all Switzerland was beautiful in his eyes; but the lake of Zurich was more — it was superb, " toujours des vignes." I thought the precipitous rocks of Lucerne, with their Alpine pastures, finer even than the vineyards of Zurich ; but, like my Frenchman of Val Travers, the old fellow drew a critical distinction between the beau and the pittoresque. " Handsome is that handsome does," was clearly an axiom with both. My barge, as usual, was of the most primitive mould. The crew consisted of a man, bis wife, and their daughter; quite a family affair. I stepped into it with confidence, however ; firstly, because I knew I could swim across the lake, at need ; secondly, because 1 knew the boat, being of light wood, could not very weU sink ; and thirdly, because the lake was so calm as to resemble a glittering mirror. Here, then, were all the elements of courage necessary to trust oneself on a lake that has had rather a bad reputation for its frolicks, ever since the time the Swiss hero leaped to shore on TeUen's Platte. Stanztad consists of two or three houses, all that were left from a conflagration during the war of 1798, and an old tower that is placed near tbe water, and which dales from the thir teenth century. QuiUing the port, the family trio were re quested to pull out into the centre of the lake, where its five arms would stretch themselves before me, when it would be LAIvE OF LUCERNE, Kij time enough to determine whither we would proceed. On reaching this point we lay on our oars, with all tbe inviting reaches of this eccentric sheet of water fairly open. While I was dissecting natural beauties, as undecided as a connoisseur in tbe Circassian market at Slamboul, the old guide very de liberately told off on his fingers the different prices to the tlifferent havens, leaving me to choose between them. The whole thing was reduced lo a purely Swiss circulation, or il was six francs' worth of the picturesque against seven. I had been at Lucerne and at Kiisnacht; but the broad breast of the Righi lay invitingly warm and sunny within a league of me. Whilst gazing wistfully at the isolated cone, the melancholy sounds of a deep-toned bell came chiming over the placid lake from the bight of Kiisnacht. It seemed lo invite me to return ; and certainly more delicious music was seldom beard. The effect produced by these beUs, as they send their voices athwart the water, among the solemn rocks and moun tains of Switzerland, is indescribably sweet and soothing. I could have spent hours in listening. The sounds soon ceased, however, when I desired that the ladies would be so obliging as to puU up under the Righi, and thence take tbe direction lo Brunnen, a viUage in tbe canton of Schwytz, some three or four hours' row up tbe lake. As we glided along under the mountain, the guide pointed to a precipice, high against the Righi, whence there bad been a fall of rocks which reached the lake, some ten or twelve years before. A similar fall, farther up the lake, had caused the water to overflow a part of the town of Lucerne, though fifteen or eighteen miles, distant, doing material damage. In building among these grand flights of nature, one has to study the dangers of a position well, or he may find himself, his dwelling, and his estate, sudden sacrifices to the sublime and beautiful. Avalanches, land-slips, falling-rocks, sacs d'eau, torrents and their long progeny of evils, abound throughout all the valley. It is not sufficient that your dwelling stand in a broad valley, or on a plain, apparentiy removed from danger ; for the cracking of a glacier, fifty miles off, may possibly bring 11 * 164 DISTRICT OF GERSAU. down a deluge on your security. This is not altogether a poe tical account of the matter ; for the dangers are much more frequent and serious than a stranger would be apt to suppose. The sight of one of these local accidents, of a very singular character, was pointed out to me just before we reached the place where the fall of rock had occurred. The village of Weggis stands on the base of the Righi, near a point where the mountain descends to the lake at an angle smaller than common. Tbe melted snoWs and rains had en tered the crevices of the rocks above, until, in process of time, they converted a considerable internal stratum of the moun tain into a bed of mud. Had the cohesion of the superior part of the pile been broken, a land-fall would have occurred; but such not being the case, the immense weight forced the mud through openings in the rock lo the surface, whence it flowed down the declivity into the lake. The progress of this extraordinary avalanche was slow, like that of lava, but irresistible. It left tbe earth completely covered for the height of many feet, sweeping before it every vestige of the labours of man that was abandoned to its course. There was lime, however, to save nearly everything but tbe earth ilself, and its fruits, the peasants actually removing most of their houses. The ruin was not very extensive, but it was very thorough. Soon after passing Fiznau, we went through a strait in clining southward, and came abreast of a small territory lying on a spur qf tbe Righi, which rises here nearly four thousand feet above the surface of the lake. The whole district is on the mountain side; nor did it appear to me, in passing, that there was an acre of really level land from its base to its summit. It seemed, however, to be fertUe and well covered with fruit trees, a southern exposure being very favourable lo the growth of the latter. The houses, of which I counted fifty, were nearly buried in trees, and there were a good many evidences of industry. The books told me that some atten tion was also paid to the manufacture of silk. This district is called Gersau, and, although it is now a part of Schwytz, for the four centuries that preceded the invasion of 1798, it BRUNNEN. 165 formed an independent republic. Its width, along the shore of the lake, is less than three miles, and, up the inclined plane, its greatest length scarcely reached five. Here, then, was a state of less than ten thousand acres of land ! The ob jects of exportation, and indeed of production, in this coun try, are butter, cheese, skins, wool, and fruit. The entire po pulation in 1798, or at the close of its independent existence, was fifteen hundred souls. This, and San Marino, in Italy, were the two smallest civUized communities in the world. The latter is still nominally independent, having foreign rela tions, which, as I understand the matter, was, on paper at least, formerly the case with Gersau, it forming neither a canton nor a part of a canton, previously to the era named. There was, however, a species of permanent aUiance with tbe Confederation that reduced it, in fact, to a condition of poli tical dependency. This country contained twenty family names, and all males of sixteen voted in the Landsgemeinde. The people choose every other year a landamman, or presi dent, a stadlholder, a secretary of state, a treasurer, and nine counseUors ! A famUy must bave been in a very bad way that had not one of its members in office. It was intensely hot as we rowed past this territory, tbe sun beating on its side in a way to explain the secret of its fruits. Indeed the whole country was nothing but a natural wall to raise apples, and pears, and plums, and figs, and al monds against. Small as it was, I was heartily glad lo be rid of it, and to reach the end of the Righi, or a point where the rays, by passing into a vast amphitheatre in the moun lains wbich contains the village of Schwytz, were no longer thrown back upon us by reflection. Soon after we put into the port of Rrunnen. Tbe position of this village is beautiful, it lying exactiy al the principal bend in the lake, where it commands a view in both directions. Towards the west lay the basin over which we had just rowed ; and towards the south the lake stretched away, for seven or eight miles, between huge and nearly per- iOG THE GRUTTLI, pendicnlar piles, to Fluelen, in Uri, or, in fact,^ to the base of the Sl. Gothard. The day stUl continued placid, and after taking some re freshment, I determined to go to Fluelen, and thence, by the Devil's Bridge, into the Grisons. A new contract was en tered into with the family of oars, and we proceeded. Ju.st as we were quitting the shore, a young German student came running down to beg a passage. He was admitted, and we steered towards the Griitli. The lake now presented a most lovely picture; not a breath of air was stirring, and boats were stealing athwart its glassy surface in a dozen different directions. The mountains were sombre and grand, more particularly around that deep reach of the lake into which we were penetrating, the scene of Tell's danger and escape. A heavy barge, filled with merchandise for Italy, and impelled by some thirty large oars; was sweeping on, nearly abreast of us, crowded with a hundred passengers, and lumbered with piles of boxes. Altogether it was a most enchanting scene, and as inviting by its repose as by the admixture of the soft with the sublime. A crowd of romantic recollections, moreover, were hovering about all the prominent points of the landscape. Within a few minutes, however, a fresh air began lo blow in our favour, and we set the saU. Our course now became easy and rapid, and j we were soon abreast of the Griitli. Anxious to profit by the breeze, I determined not to land ; for the place really offered no other inducement than a littie extra enthusiasm. This I endeavoured, as far as possible, to feel in the boat. The Criitii is evidentiy a fragment, of some sixty or a hundred acres, that has fallen from a mountain. Its surface is sufficientiy smooth lo be cropped as a meadow, and, lying between tbe lake and the rocks, it offered a good point of rendezvous for conspirators (patriots before they were sure of success) who lived on different sides of the water. For such a purpose the place was both convenient and secluded. Tradition, 1 presume, docs not pretend to DANGERS OF THE LAKE. 16T point out the precise spot where Walter Fiirst met his two associates; but as three men who had got together lo plot a revolt would be quite likely to stand reasonably close to each other, you will perceive that I might have wasted a month in endeavouring to determine the locus in quo, had I been bent on the discovery. We soon met a boat that was puUing hard against the breeze. Her crew called to us, and said that we should be compelled to return, as a wind peculiar to this lake had al ready struck it on the other side of the Achsenberg. My German companion now told me that the watermen at Brun nen had predicted the same thing. Our family party seemed disturbed; but as we stiU had a fair and a fine breeze, I kept the boat's head towards the gulf of Fluelen. I had been told a good deal, and had read a good deal, about the dangers of this part of the lake of Lucerne, which is sometimes called the Lac d'Uii. A row-boat is rarely in great danger, in narrow waters, if it can be kept out of breakers ; and seeing nothing to be apprehended from this source, in spite of tbe toppling qualities of our batteau, I could not perceive a sufficient reason for abandoning the attempt. It would have been out of all rule, moreover, to desert a fair breeze. We shot swiftly ahead, and TeUen's Platte was fairly in view, when the sail suddenly flapped. The wind appear ed lo have glanced upward like a bird, and lo have left the lake in an instant. The women looked appalled, resuming their oars with great reluctance. I ordered the sail to be lowered, and the mast to be struck. This was scarcely done, when we heard a noise like that of strong currents of air rushing through leaves, and at the next rr.oment we felt the new breeze. It appeared to press almost perpendicularly on the water, forming an opposing current only along its immediate surface. Besides being adverse, it was much fresher than the wind we hadlost. I saw that my half-and-half crew was not only unequal to, but indisposed to the contest. The Tieavy barge, which we had already passed, now came up, sustained by her mometi- 168 DANGERS OF THE LAKE. tum ; but even she began to hesitate, and to incline towards the eastern shore. Taking tbe bint, I sheered our boat over in the same direction, and we soon got under the beetling rocks. A heavy swell was fast getting up, and I looked for a place where we might at least hold on ; for going ahead any farther began to be worse than doubtful. We succeeded in getting to a rock, where there was barely fooling for one person. The man jumped on it with the boat's painter, and held us fast for a few minutes; but the heaving and setting of the water increased so much, as to render it no easy mat ter to keep our egg-shell from hopping up alongside of him. The whole shore was a wall of rock from three thousand to six thousand feet high ; and, although there were meadows and even cottages hanging over our heads in the upper regions, the foundation of the pile was nearly perpendicular. Here and there were spots, however, where one might land, as at TeUen's Platte; and in some instances there were narrow strands, under the cliffs. The barge was sheering in towards one of the latter, to attain which a hundred hands were slruggUng at her sweeps. She withstood the action of the waves, aided by her great weight, and finally succeeded. I thought we might possibly do as much, and was certain that we could not safely continue where we were, and taking the fourth oar myself, the man was ordered to jump aboard, and to shove off. With my aid, we were enabled lo bold our own, and that was all. The seas beginning to break, and the wind to increase in power, I reluctantiy gave up the point. The boat's head was thrown quickly round, the frail machine tottering, suspended on the crest of a sea for an instant, but righted, luckily, with its bow towards Brunnen. My German companion "made big eyes" during these little manuoevres, and he stared with all his might at the waves over which we were careering ; the boat, by this time, fairly flying, without showing an inch of canvass. " Mein Gott — mein Gott !" he ejaculated ; and he seemed to think my involunta ry laugh a species of marine blasphemy. He had been a little disposed towards touzy-mouzy at the sight of the Griitii and TOWN OF SCHWYTZ. 169 TeUen's Platte, but it all fled before the flaw. As for the amiable famUy of water-fowl, they appeared to think this much the pleasantest part of their day's work ; though I saw well enough that there were certain misgivings among them about the forthcoming honorarium. Of danger there was none ; but this touch of the quality of the lake of Lucern was sufficient to satisfy me that very serious difficulties may be encountered on its waters, more particularly in the clumsy boats in,use. The natural resort against danger would be the very course we took, because we could take no other : that of running before the wind. Owing to its shape the lake is certain to furnish a lee in a few minutes, let a boat be in what part of it she might. Gesler, it is to be presumed, was not much of a sailor. Landing, between Brunnen and Fluelen, during a storm, except in particular spots, would be out of the question ; nor can the shore at such times be approached, without some hazard, anywhere. Parties of females, in particular, would always do well to respect tbe opinions of the weather given by the boatmen. This is a point on which their honesty may be implicitly trusted ; and even men might do worse than by confiding in their faith and local knowledge. I had felt disposed lo smUe at the predictions of the soothsayers before the adverse wind came ; but in the end there was reason to respect their prescience. On landing again at Brunnen, we proceeded towards Schwytz, on foot. The natural basin in which this Iowa stands is very beautiful, and highly cultivated. The town itself, the heart's core of Helvetia, is neat, much orna mented by fruit trees, and its houses are chiefly in stone, whitened. Behind it stand two bald rocks of vast height, which are called the Mitres (il%^Aen), from their shape, and probably from the circumstance that among the hills in their rear, has stood for ages, and still stands, one of the most fre quented shrines of Europe, underthe government of a mitred abbot ; the benedictine convent of Einsiedeln. Without stopping in the town of Shwytz, we took a path 170 CATASTROPHE AT GOLDAU. through the meadows Ihat soon brought us into the road to Goldau. In coming from Brunnen to the outiet of the lake of Lowerz, we turned the eastern extremity of the Righi. Tbe little sheet of water just mentioned is less than three miles in length, by a little more than one in breadth, and on its southern side it washes the base of the mountain, leaving sufficient room for an excellent carriage road, however, lo wind along its banks. The ground is low at the outlet, which flows through the beautiful meadows of the district into the lake of the Four Cantons, or that of Lucerne. The outiet is called Scewen, and a hamlet near il bears the same name. Here I stopped to view the scene, and to rest myself The ruins of Goldau, the Rossberg, and the pUe of the Righi lay directiy before me, across the water, at tbe distance of a league. Beckoning to a peasant who was mowing in a field near by, I inquired if he had witnessed the fall of the Ross berg ? This man was at work, at tbe moment of tbe cata strophe, within a fewyards of the very spot where we then stood. He described the noise as being sufficiently terrifying, but rs less loud than one would suppose. A dense cloud of dust spread itself across the valley of Goldau, and up the side of the Rossberg, a distance of two miles or more, and he saw fire shooting through the air. From the appearance of the latter, the first impression in Schwitz had been, that there was a volcanic eruption ; but it was afterwards known that the fire came from some lime-kilns that had been burning on tbe mountain. The fall of the Rossberg was owing lo water passing through crevices of the mountain, and forming an enormous layer of mud, off of which the huge superincumbent mass had slid, like a ship when she is launched. It differed from the accident at Weggis only in the fact of the strata of tbe mountain separating, and by the greater magnitude of the phenomenon. The mud was driven downward by the enor mous pressure with great impetuosity, and most of it, finding an outiet in that direction, was forced, in the twinkling of an eye, as it were, into the other end of the lake. Here it li terally formed nearly a thousand acres of land ! What an CATASTROPHE AT GOLDAU, i7l idea this fact gives us of the magnificent scale on which the works of nature are displayed in this country ! One has diffi culty in believing in such an event ; but the meadow tells its own tale. The depth of the lake, iu general, is about fifty feet ; but the water was more shallow at its upper end, where this extraordinary change occurred. The sudden entrance of so much earth, as you will readUy suppose, compelled as sudden an exit of an equal quantity of water. My informant described the first effect of this pheno menon to be a nearly perpendicular barrier of water, which stretched across the head of the lake, and which was the first feature of the catastrophe that he distinctly understood. Com prehending the nature of this danger, he had just time to run from the eminence where we were standing, and on which he had then been at work, into the street of the hamlet, and to bring up a little brother of his, who was playing before his own door. This was hardly done, when the wave reached the eastern shore, and poured its volume against the base of the Righi, and through the low pass of the Scewen. A great deal of the force of this wave must have been broken by the mountain, which is quite precipitous here, and the recoil of the water no doubt helped to diminish the violence of the suc ceeding shocks. Still the torrent that broke over the low ground washed aU before it, including several houses, taking its course by the bed of the Scewen into the lake of Lucerne, There were three great waves, after which the water gradual ly subsided. I believe no lives were lost ; a circumstance that must have been owing to the fact that the water escaped from the lake chiefly on the reflux, the side of the mountain receiv ing the principal shock. The walk along the lake shore was charming, and I loitered by the way like a truant schoolboy. There are two small islands, of which one, a littie rocky mound, contains the ruins of a small baronial hold, that tradition gives to the old tyrants of the country, or to the bailiffs of the house of Habsbourg. A peasant, who was at work opposite this island, pointed to a low wall on it, which he said was part of a small chapel, that 172 NEW GOLDAU, had been swept away by the water. He added that the wave completely covered the summit of a tower that was still stand ing, visible proofs of the passage of the water remaining on the stones. I computed the height of the rock above the water lo be about twenty-five feet, and that of the tower above the rocks, forty-five. This would give seventy feet for the height of tbe wave above the surface of the lake. There is nothing like this seen on the ocean ; but as, in this case, the water was violentiy and suddenly displaced, it does not follow that there was a " trough," as in gales at sea. The hamlet of Lowerz stands at the western end of the lake, which lies in a north-west and south-east direction, and a little out of the course of the destruction. Its church, houses, and meadows mostly escaped, though the latter are more or less sprinkled with fragments of rock. The made ground lies directly behind it, and it was either in coarse grass, or in rude meadows, that had been recently cut, hay- slacks being profusely scattered over its whole surface. Here the road ascended, and skirted the scene of desola tion, passing the site of Goldau, or past a hamlet that is called New Goldau. This is the place where we took to the fields, in our asc ent of tbe Righi, and I had now entered it from an exactiy opposite direction. I ordered supper and a bed, de termining to pass the night on the spot. About ten, a noisy party of some thirsty porteurs de chaises came down the Righi, and invaded the inn. They had been up with the Grand-duchess Helena, the wife of the Grand-duke Michael, of Russia, and having probably been well paid for their toU, seemed disposed to make a night of it. I was right glad when they were all well fiUed with sour wine. It was a chill, foggy morning when I rose, and the air suited the dreary aspect of the neighbouring desolation. New Goldau is a very bumble commencement, containing merely tbe inn and a parsonage, with a chapel annexed. The priest was at matins, surrounded by a congregation of a dozen wo men and children. Opposite the temporary chapel, which is. CATASTROPHE OF GOLDAU, 173 now in a sort of cellar, is the foundation of a new church. 1 got into conversation with the cure when he came out, and gleaned from him, and from the different people about the inn, as many facts relating to the fall of the mountain as I could obtain. After breakfast, we proceeded on the same errand, directiy across the ruin to the foot of the Rossberg. As this catastrophe is so truly Swiss, I shall now endeavour lo give you a more distinct idea of il. Imagine a valley bounded on its east and west sides by two lakes, and on its north and south by lofty mountains. Tbe distance between tbe lakes is about two miles ; and that from mountain to mountain, in the nearest point, is a little more than one. The southern mountain (the Righi) is a sharp ac clivity; the northern rises more gradually, admitting of culti vation and meadows lo its summit. The side of the latter mountain, which is the Rossberg, presents an inclined plane, at an angle of about thirty degrees, judging by the eye; being nearly or quite a league in length. The summit is given by Ebel as being 3516 French feet above the level of the lake of Zug. The whole southern surface was dotted with cottages, many of which still stand within a few yards of the line of the ruin. The extreme summit of the Rossberg is repre sented as having been a mass of rock, that projected at more than a right angle with its inclined surface, and wbich, of course, a lillie overhung its own base, in tbe direction of the valley. This accidental formation is believed to have been tbe chief cause of the disaster. A fracture in the rock, running directly up the mountain in a straight line, marks tbe eastern limits of the fall. It has left a precipice tbe whole distance, varying from eighty to one hundred and twenty feet in height. This, of course, was the average depth of the sliding mass, though its thickness gra dually diminished towards its western margin, where it seemed shaved off to an edge, in consequence of the mountain's re ceding northward. The width of this frightful track is about a thousand feet. Admitting that the length is only ten thousand, the width one thousand, and the average depth but forty feet. 174 CATASTROPHE OF GOLDAU, we gel 400,000,000 cubic feet of matter, as the mass that was set in motion, on this dire occasion. Judging by the eye, I should think this calculation to be materially within the truth. By allowing an average depth of eighty feet, the mass, of course, is doubled. A better sort of Manhattanese dwelling contains about sixty thousand cubic feet. Assuming that the matter displaced by the fall of the Rossberg was 600,000,000 cubic feel, we get tbe result of a mass equal to the cubic con tents of ten thousand of our largest dwellings. This number of dwellings of that size would, perhaps, be quite as great an amount of mailer as is aclually contained in all the buildings of the town;* so that you have to imagine all the edifices of New York converted into solid bodies, and then cast, in a single mi nute, into a valley and lake, with a superficies of less than two thousand acres, in order lo have some idea of the desolation produced by the fall of this mountain. Ebel estimates the size of the chasm left by the falling fragments at nearly double that I have here given ; but I think he has not allowed enough for the irregularity of its form. The upper stratum of the entire side of the mountain, within the limits named, has been forced from its bed, from its summit to its base. Tbe resistance, as the matter became piled in the valley, bas thrown off fragments of the summit obliquely ; and there are rocks as large as small buUdings now lying near Goldau, which must have been projected through the air a distance of at least two miles. I have little doubt, notwithstanding, that most of the destruction has been done by tbe superior mailer forcing tbe inferior before it. The buildings of Goldau which lay near the extremity of the ruin are said to have been shoved from their places, though subse- quentiy overwhelmed. The priest estimated the depth of the debris on the site of the present road at about thirty feet. There are places in the valley, however, where its depth cannot be less than two hundred. Near the base of the mountain is a sort of oasis in the * This was written in 182S. CATASTROPHE OF GOLDAU, 175 desert. It is a littie spot, of clayish meadow land, that has escaped the fall of rocks, and which is fenced and mowed. Whether it is the miserable remains of the original meadow, or whether it is a portion of meadow that slid from the moun tain, I cannot say ; but quite probably it is the latier. It is covered with a wiry grass. Pools of water exist aU over the ruin, which altogether looks fresh, allhough the accident oc curred in 1806. At the base of the Righi are detached rocks scattered about the meadows, that were burled a good deal in advance of the mass. This place looks like a battle ground, where Milton's angels had contended. After passing an hour amid this desolation, I mounted the Rossberg, for some distance, and stood on the verge of tbe precipice left by the fall. The view of the ruin beneath was frightful, and it was in strange contrast with the exquisite loveliness of the meadows that closely embrace its sides. Four hundred and thirty-three of the inhabitants of the mountain and valley perished on this occasion; but to these must be added sixteen residents of other parts of the canton, and eight travellers. The latter were a bridal party, about lo ascend the Righi. One or two gentlemen of their company were so far in ihe rear as to escape. These heard the rend ing of the rocks; and the last they saw of their friends, the latier bad slopped and were looking up at the Rossberg, the sounds having evidentiy attracted their attention too. In the next minute they were buried beneath the ruins ! The noise bad previously alarmed some of the residents, of whom se venty-four escaped by flight. Those who hved on the moun tain, by taking lateral directions, had lo run but five hundred feet in order to be safe. Ebel estimates the pecuniary loss al a Utile more than half a miUion of doUars. A person might have stood unscathed at the verge of the line of ruin, on the mountain; but, below, the air must have been momentarUy filled with flying fragments. There is a house still standing on the western side of the track, or on that which is the least regularly marked, in fearful proximity to the debris. 170 ASCENT OF THE ROSSBERG. Quitting this scene of devastation, we took our way dia gonally up the mountain, by a footpath that led us among cottages, copses, and pastures. One viUage, with a church, was passed ; but the broad breasts of these Alps are uniformly peopled like tbe vaUeys, except in those cases in which tbe elevation, the inclination, or the sterUity forbids the abodes of man. The latter scarcely ever occurs on the sides of mounlains that are not mere pUes of rock. We had beautiful views of tbe meadows towards Schwytz, and the eye complete ly overlooked the ground which had been made in the lake. The viUage of Lowerz did not entirely escape, as I bad thought on passing it ; for the guide now told me that tbe body of its church bad been blown down by the concussion of the air, while its tower was left standing ! Such a thing might have occurred, especially if the current of air happened to be well saturated with rocks, as was most probably the case. After a steady ascent for an hour, we entered the high road, and, continuing to mount, soon reached a place called Rotenthurm. Here is a lower of some size, which was pro bably built lo guard the pass, for it stands on the brow of the ascent, and on one of the principal entrances to the Forest Cantons. I gladly ordered a char-d-banc, a vehicle that has a great variety of forms, the ancient char having degenerated to carriages of different modes of construction. In this in stance, it turned out to be a regular one-horse waggon. The country now became open, high, and broken. I scarcely re member a less inviting district in all Switzerland, than that through which I passed during the next hour or two. Wc got a distant glimpse of the lake of Engeri, and tbe spot where the battle of Morgarten was fought. There was, also, some sharp fighting with tbe French, in 1798, near this spot. A great deal of peat was cutting along Ihe road, and I passed a hamlet of chAlets, that were designed to hold it, when dried. The houses were vulgar, and, in short, tbe whole scene was as littie Swiss, as if it bad been one of those half-deserted, exhausted settlements, of our own frontiers, in which none but tbe shiftless and improvident remain. EINSIEDELN. i 177 The road was pretty good, however, and I was surprised to find a neat and well-built stone bridge thrown across a ravine. At this spot we overtook a party of pUgrims proceed ing towards the shrine, where it was supposed many thour sands would soon be collected, to assist at a solemn triennial ceremony. There were thirty-two in this company; two-thirds females; and they had come from Alsace, or more than a hundred miles, to be present on this great occasion. A few were barefoot, and all prayed aloud, williout ceasing, one re peating after the other. Deeper voices were heard in the rear, and another party, of sixteen, mostiy men, ascended .a knoll in the road, advancing towards the shrine in the same manner. The effect of these littie processions, and the beautiful blend ing of prayers, was singularly touching. After walking the horse some distance, to enjoy the intona tions of these piously-disposed travellers, we trotted on, and were soon on an eminence that commanded a view of the place to which they were going. The whole country had a naked appearance, rather than the shorn look so often de scribed, and which, while it gives a meagre air to a landscape, renders it pleasing by its quaintness. Here, though there was not absolute sterility, there was a want of the opposite quality, that left an impression of dreariness. In tbe midst of such scenery, and in a sort of large amphitheatre formed by ragged mountains, towards the south and west, stood a vast pile of buildings, that has the reputation of a general resemblance to St. Peter's at Rome, although greatly inferior in magnitude, style, and material. There were ranges of conventual build ings grouped together and attached to the church, like the palace of the Vatican; the church ilself; and a substitute for the celebrated circular colonnades, in two rows of cells, that are used as shops for the sale of images, and other simUar ar ticles of ecclesiastical traffic. As these edifices occupy a conspicuous site, on a side hill, they strike the eye imposingly, in that poor and inhospitable region. About a hundred houses, aU or nearly all of which are taverns for the accommodation of pilgrims, were cluster- 12 17S TRADITIONS RESPECTING ed together, in a more humble position, and lower in the val ley, as became the menials of the shrine. The vUlage was neat, and as we drove through it, it was plain enough that its people subsisted chiefly by administering to the superstitions or to the bodily wants of the pilgrims. Nearly every house, besides being a tavern, was also devoted to the trade just mentioned, and large preparations were making to reap a fruitful harvest from the approaching festival. LETTER XVI. Traditions respecting the Shrine of Einsiedeln. — Superstition attends the extreme Classes of Society. — Arrival of Pilgrims. — The Church. — Feel ings of Devotion, — Rarity of Female Beauty, — Unseemly Ceremonies, — Opportunity of becoming Martyr. — Temporary Chapels, — Extensive View. — ^Delightful Descent. — Hire a Char. — A dogmatic Waiter.— Canton of Glaris.— Bishop of Coire.— Town of Glaris. — Schrabzieger Cheese.— Proceed to Wesen. Dear , I TOOK a room at the Ox, the best inn, and hastened to wards the abbey. As I can scarcely recall a day of stronger or more varied sensations than this, it may be well to give you a brief history of the causes which have brought the shrine of Einsiedeln into so much repute. A hermit* of great sanctity lived near the spot many cen turies since. This man was murdered, and respect for his memory induced a religious community to establish them selves around his cell. On the occasion of a consecration of a chapel, the bishop, it is affirmed, was anticipated by angels, who performed the rite to heavenly music, at midnight. This event at once brought our Lady of the Hermits, as she is call ed, into high request, and from that day to this, or for nine ' He is said lo have been a contemporary of Charlemagne, and a member of the house of Hohenzollern, which is now seated on the throne of Prussia. THE SHRINE OF EINSIEDELN. 179 Centuries, Mary of Einsiedeln has been a favourite with pil grims of all the surrounding nations. Other traditions are also connected with the principal miracle. The Saviour is stated to have visited the shrine dedicated to his mother, in the human form. There is a copious fountain before tbe church, which has fourteen spouts, and at one of these (which is not known) he is believed to have drunk. He also left a complete impression of his hand on a silver plate ; but the French removed both impression and plate at the time of their invasion; for it would have been the greater miracle of the two had they left anything formed of the precious metals behind them. Einsiedeln, unlike Loretto, has never been much frequented by the great. There is an unction about Italy, in such mat ters, with which it is nearly vain to hope to compete ; and the difficulty of access and the proximity of heresy may have aided in diverting the current of pUgrimage. But, at the present time-, Einsiedeln has probably more votaries than the shrine of the Roman Stales, though they certainly are of a greatly inferior quality. It has struck me that this particular species of devotion, or, indeed, most of those ancient observances of the church of Rome, which depend more on tradition than on doctrine and revelation, are fast falling into disrepute with all classes of society, but its two extremes, the princes and the peasants ; superstition, it would seem, being as much the com panion of very high as of very low fortunes. In the latter case, it is the result of ignorance, and of a misery that seeks all modes of relief : and, in the former, of that innate sense of unwortbiness, wbich renders every man conscious of his own inability to control high events, and secretiy disposes him to lean on a supernatural power. That they do not place their reliance on mOre rational aids, is, probably, in both cases, the fault of education, little more being taught to princes than the accomplishments which are useful in maintaining the repre sentation of their rank. Thus they are all hnguists, but very rarely logicians. Napoleon himself is said to have believed in his fortune, and to have been much under the influence of 12* 180 CHURCH OF EINSIEDELN. superstition ; a fact which, with his education and previous disposition, must be attributed solely to the consciousness of being required to decide on events that belong rather to des tiny than to any human wiU. Thus, you perceive, as "hy pocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue," I am ready to maintain that superstition is no other than an involuntary admission of our want of the higher attributes of inteUigence. Perhaps no man is entirely without it. At all events, princes and peasants are the two classes who now appear to retain the greatest respect for the ancient su perstitions of the Catholic Church. Pohcy, no doubt, in some measure, influences the first; but I think the world does not give them credit always for a sincerity which, for the reasons named, I believe they oftener feel than is supposed. Pilgrims were arriving throughout the day, in parlies vary ing from a dozen to a hundred. Their approach was always announced by tbe untiring repetitions of the prayers, the effect of which, in the distance, especially when male and female voices alternated, was poetical and plaintive. All drank at the fountain, and nearly all at its several spouts, in order to make sure of pressing their lips to the one which is supposed to have been consecrated by the lips of the Saviour. They then in variably entered tbe building, serious, earnest, and devout, and knelt before the shrine. The church is large, and almost worthy of being ranked with the cathedrals of Italy. It is a good deal ornamented, having many marble altars, painted ceUings, and much gUding. The shrine is of marble, and it stands quite near the great doors. Iron gratings in front, and on parts of the two sides, permit views of the interior, where the bronzed images of the Mother and Child are so placed as to receive the rays of a single but strong lamp. Their habUiments resembled pure gold. When I entered, hundreds of pilgrims were kneeling on the pavement around the grates, keeping their eyes riveted, with out an exception, on the dark, mysterious faces within. Many maintained this position for hours, and all appeared to be absorbed in subdued devotion. The light of the church was FEELINGS OF DEVOTION, 181 growing dim with the decline of day, and I walked stealthily around the groups, and through the vaulted aisles, with feel ings of reverence, pity, admiration, and awe, so blended, that I find it difficult to describe them. I knew that the temple was God's, and that his Spirit was present ; I felt persuaded that much devout reliance on his mercy was blended with the superstition I witnessed; and, while my reason showed how fearfully near idolatry these poor people had approached, the mystery of the incarnation never appeared so sublime, and, if I may so express it, so palpable, as at that moment. I believe few men are less under the influence of superstition, or a dread of any sort connected with spiritual agencies, than my self, and yet I found it necessary to draw largely on my Protestant insensibUities, in order to gaze at the bronzed coun tenance of Mary with indifference. Sympathy with the earn est and well-meaning crowd who knelt before her, a belief which, while it rejected so much of the embellishment of their own faith, admitted so much of its substance, and a sense of common inabUity lo penetrate the great secret of the system of the universe, disposed me to be charitable. It was impossible to witness tbe pain and labour with which these poor people nad traversed plains and mountains to reach the shrine, the subdued and imploring air with which they approached the image, and the fixed attitudes of reverence and deprecation, mingled with a strange sentiment of affectionate reliance, that all assumed, without feeling how insignificant shades in creed become, when devotion really occupies the soul. In short, I was in no humour to be critical, and felt strongly disposed to receive everything as it was offered, and as it wished to ap pear. Most of the pUgrims were Germans. A large portion were from the Rlack Forest, though there were also a good many Alsacians, and a few Italians in the different groups. Some of the men had noble classical faces ; and I can recall one or two, who, bending on the stones with naked knees, heads in clined, and eyes humbly but steadily riveted on the bronzed image, were perfect models of manly submission to an omni- 182 UNSEEMLY CEREMONIES. potent and incomprehensible Power. I did not see a comely female among them. Beauty, real, and of a high character, is everywhere rare ; but that near approach to it, which we receive as its substitute, and which we should be wiUing to admit is beauty itself, but for the occasional exceptions that serve to raise the standard, and which is so very common in America, is of very unfrequent occurrence in this portion of Europe. A pretty peasant is hardly ever seen, and the cos tumes wbich appear so weU in prints, are actually neutralized by the want of personal attractions in those who wear them. Nothing could be more wretched in externals than most of the female pilgrims on this occasion, though even they seemed respectable and more human than usual, whUe grouped around the shrine, in quiet, enduring, earnest devotion. The twilight was still in the aisles, when a procession of monks entered by a lateral door, and approached the shrine. I had seen one or two of the fraternity gliding among the pil lars of the narrow galleries that connect the upper portions of the church, apparentiy looking down, in watchfulness, at the devotees ; but, though picturesque to the eye, their flitting about in this manner had recalled me from more pleasing thoughts, to recoUections of monkish craft, and I fancied their presence unseasonable. Now, however, they came in a body, the prince ly abbot at their head, and began to chant the offices. The delusion was disturbed by this idle parade ; for there is usually a want of reverence in the manner of tbe officials in Catholic worship, that does not at all comport with Protestant humUity. They soon withdrew in the same order; and then commenced a scene that was stiff less in unison with our opinions. The pilgrims pressed forward, offering boxes of beads, images, and other similar articles, to a monk who remained in the shrine ; and who, after touching the image with the different objects, returned them lo their several owners to be preserved as relics. Nothing could be more business-like than the whole process, which, unfortunately for previous impressions, Imentally com pared at tbe moment to the rapid evolutions of a notorious vender of gaieties on the Boulevard St. Martin, at Pari*. . OPPORTUNITY OF BECOMING MARTYR. l83 Such ludicrous associations make sad inroads on the touching and the beautiful ; and I turned away, to stroll up the body of the church, devoured by scepticism. Every altar was crowded^ and by this time the light was so dim as to give a shadowy appearance to the images of the edifice, its rich ornaments, its columns, gaUeries, aisles, and even to the kneeling pUgrims. I took this opportunity, while the last impressions were agree able, to quit the place, and to return to the inn. Several bodies of pilgrims had arrived since myself; and at the inn I stiff heard them repeating their prayers in the streets. As soon as I had dined, I sent for the guide, in order to measure the etape for the next day's march. He had hardly entered before the sound of voices in the street drew us lo the window, which a party of seventy-four pilgrims was passing. The men walked bareheaded on one side of the road, and the women on the other. The guide shook his head, as if he looked on all this as very wicked. He is an inveterate Protestant, and got himself in difficulty not long since by speaking his senti ments on the subject a little too freely. According lo his ac count of the matter, it would have been very easy for either of us to gain the honours of martyrdom, by just stepping into the square, and proclaiming our private opinions concerning the divine consecration of the chapel of Our Lady of the Her mits. I earnestly advised him to try the experiment ; but this he adroitiy evaded, by saying he owed it to his character and conscience to see me safe back to Thun. Of course, after this considerate explanation, I did not press the matter. WhiU we were discussing tbe point, another party passed, barefoo as well as bareheaded. As we concluded it was the most expedient not to attack the angelic consecration, I settled the affair of thenext day's march as fast as possible, and hurried back to the church. The build ing was now dimly lighted, and the pilgrims still knelt in its gloomy shadows, resembling statues of stone. Many of them had their packs on their backs, like types of their sins. Two females of better appearance than usual were praying at a side altar; but no one else of either sCx^ of a station above that of 184 TEMPORARY CHAPELS. a peasant, was in the church, the officials and myself excepted. The , books certainly say that men of condition do make this pilgrimage; but if any such were here to-day, they were tho roughly disguised ; so completely so, I should think, as to baffle the penetration of even Our Lady of the Hermits. I could not lose three days, at this late season (Friday, 1 2th September, 1828), in order to witness the ceremonies of the succeeding Sunday, and we departed, therefore, on foot, early on the following morning. The road was lined for some distance with "stations," as they are called, or little chapels that usually represent the passions of the Re deemer, in which the pious go through a succession of prayers suited to their own weaknesses, — a common obser vance in Catholic countries. Pilgrims were still met, every half mile, some coming from the cantons, some from Ger many, and some from the Tyrol. One parly were carrying their packs on their heads, another were barefooted, and each apparentiy had some peculiar form of penance. We also met many boys and girls bearing fruit to the village. As the day proved very warm, it was grateful to cool the palate with plums and pears, while toiUng up the sharp and frequent ascents. I had got completely out of my reckoning, though the fact that we were on the broken sur face of a mountain was sufficientiy evident, not only by its productions, but by the air which bounded the view towards the south; in Switzerland, the landscape -being usually ina grand setting of rocks, unless the spectator is on an elevation. After more than an hour of hard walking, we came to an ascent that was steeper than common. As we drew near the top, I observed the eyes of the guide were getting to be rest less, and began to think he was disposed to try a litile kirsch- wasser, for he had just told me there was an inn at the summit, where very good liquor was to be had. I did the old man injustice. He was thinking, altogether in the way of his vocation, of the glory of Switzerland, and of an agreeable surprise that lay before me. The ascent brought us suddenly to the summit of that mountain which bounds the southern SWISS LAJCES. 185 shore of the lake of Zurich, and the region to the north and west of that. sheet of water being what may be caUed a cham paign country for the Alps, we were on the threshold of " a view." A few steps brought us to the verge of the declivity, where the eye ranged over a vast reach of country into Ger many. We were about two thousand feet above the lake of Zurich, a portion of which lay at our feet, cut by the bridge of Rapperschwyl. The island of Ufnau was also in sight; and the mountain that we had descended on our way from the Tockenberg, lay a littie on the left. In short, it was com pletely the reverse of the picture we had seen on the occasion of passing up the other shore of the lake, as already men tioned, in our late excursion. The road was quite good; but it was a dogged pull di rectly np the side of the mountain. In the sharpness and length of the ascent, it resembled that of the Am Stoss, though I think the last slUl entitled to precedency. Luckily, instead of climbing, it was now our agreeable duty to descend, and, after delaying a few minutes to enjoy the scene, we plunged towards the vaUeys. The view increased, both in beauty and breadth, as we descended. Nearly all of the lake of Zurich became visible, both shores of which, lined with vUlages, churches, and cot tages', in white, like so many brides, and beautifuUy relieved by verdure, forming parts of the landscape. Ufnau was so distinct, as to permit me to distinguish the chapel, barn, meadow, and crosses. Here and there, a line of deep blue appeared among the undulating swells on the remoter side of the picture, looking like patches of the purest sky. These were lakes, whose names you would not recognise, were you to hear them. Switzerland has three classes of these fresh waters : the lakes that have a reputation for their varying but extraordinary beauties, such as those of Geneva, Lucerne, Zurich, and Constance ; the takes that are smaller in size, though still of very respectable dimensions, and which are known more for their accidental positions in frequented parts of the country, or for battles that have been fought on their 186 UZNACH. banks; and the lakes that, enjoying neither of these advan tages, are seldom visited by the traveller, or even named. I write with the map open, and a dozen of these nameless waters lie before me, not one of which have I seen, except in bird's- eye glimpses, obtained in Ihe manner just mentioned, from the tops of mounlains. A fountain, in stone, surmounted by an image of Mary, crowned with a gilded glory, stood by the way-side. Deli cious water spouted from it, and a boy was in attendance to earn a batz by offering a cup. His object, probably, was to lie in wait for the pilgrims, of whom, however, we had seen none for the last hour. When half way down the mountain, the guide took a path that diverged from the highway towards the east. It led us through meadows and orchards, and by a most delightful descent to the valley, which we reached near Lakeu. I break fasted in a room that overhung the lake, and the view across the placid water was, as usual, a picture to admire. Looking down from lofty heights astonishes, and, for a time, excites the feelings; but I cling to the opinion, that we most love the views, at which we are accustomed to gaze from the margin of quiet waters, or from the depths of valleys. That pictur esque and quaint-looking place, Rapperschwyl, had more of the air of a small walled city, seen from this side, than viewed from the other. I ordered a char, which made its appearance here, in the shape of a small one-horse phaeton, with an apron d cabiio- let. Though in the very heart of Switzerland, I have not seen a single real chai-d-banc since leaving Berne. In our former tour we met very few, from all which I conclude they are not in as general use as is commonly thought. The road now lay on the margin of a wide marshy district, that was once under water, the lake probably extending, in former ages, thus far. We got pretty views of the convent above Uznach, mentioned in a former letter, of Uznach itself, and of all the long mountain side, by which we had descended. It was pleasant to reverse the picture in this manner, apdj to A DOGMATICAL WAITER. 187 say the truth, Switzerland generaUy "gives as good as it re ceives." After journeying for a league or two, we stopped to feed the horse, at an inn so near the mountain as to be in shadow at two o'clock ! I asked the waiter, who spoke French, for some pears. " Pois ! des petits pais ! " he roared ; " why, mOHsir, the peas have been gone these six weeks." " I do not ask for '¦pois,' but for 'poires,'' ' des poir-r-es^ which are just in season." One would think this explanation sufficient, and that I might have been quietiy answered, yes or no : — not at aU. My sturdy Swiss very coolly turned upon me, and gave me to understand that the reason he had not comprehended me at first was my very bad pronunciation. " Fous n'abez bas un bon bronunciashun, monsir ; voild pourquoije nefous ai bas combris." Certes, my French is anything but faultiess, though I have no reason to suppose it worse than that of my castigator, who made a most ludicrous appearance as he reproved me for calling a pear, peas; an of fence, by the way, of which I was not at all guUty. Now, what would have been thought, if such a thing had occurred in iin American inn ! As we drove from this school of quan tities, the guide, who had been much shocked by his country man's dogmatism and want of politeness, by way of atonement remarked, that "ce gasson-ld 71'est bas pien bolt." In another hour we entered the canton of Glaris. These central states are soon traversed, for they are among the smallest of Switzerland, Schwytz being tbe seventeenth canton in size, and Glaris the sixteenth. The first has also the same rank in population, while the latter ranks even one degree lower. Schwytz contains rather more than thirty thousand souls; but Glaris has less than twenty-five thousand. The entire population of Lucerne, Zug, Schwytz, Unterwalden, Glaris, and Uri, or, of the six cantons that form the territorial nucleus of the confederation, according to the official enume ration of the Federal Diet, is only 184,300 souls. If we de duct Lucerne (86,700), the five remaining cantons do not much surpass, in population, the smallest American slate, proverbially minute as we deem our own little sister to be. 188 GLARIS. Not long after I had escaped from my purist, we met a highly respectable-looking divine in the road. He was walk ing, though evidentiy a traveller, accompanied by an eccle siastic of inferior station. Soon after, an old-fashioned, heavy coach, drawn by four sleek, well-fed, clerical-looking horses, with servants, in quaint, old-fashioned liverieSjfoUow- ed. On inquiry, this personage proved to be the Bishop of Coir (the successor of the princely abbots of St. Gall, in a cle rical sense at least), who was proceeding to Einsiedeln, to take part jn the approaching ceremonies. I presume most of the Catholics of this portion of the country are under his eccle siastical jurisdiction; though those on the other side of the lake of Lucerne are generally connected with German dioceses. The houses along the road-side, and even in Schwytz itself, are less Swissish than they are in Berne. After travelling a league, we turned into an enormous ravine or valley, and drove to the town of Glaris. I was now in the glen which had lain opposite to us when descending from Herisau, the day we reached Rapperschwyl. The surface of this vast gorge is smooth, and its width is rather more than a mile ; but the height and perpendicularity of the mountains give it a strait ened appearance. The battie of Naefels was fought near its entrance, under a sublime precipice, worthy to overlook so gallant a struggle. The whole canton, in effect, lies in this valley, and in one or two others of less size, wbich open into it. There is a good deal of mountain, it is true, but the rocks lie nearer the surface here than in other parts of Switzerland, and the beautiful Alpine pastures are neither so rich nor so abundant as in the Oberland. The rocky pinnacles that en close this country vary in height, from seven thousand to more than eleven thousand feet above the level of the Medi terranean. The Linlh flows through the principal valley, and washes tbe skirts of the town. Nowhere is the contrast be tween the mild verdure of the valleys, and the savage aspect of the mountains, more marked than in Glaris : still the latter nourish vast herds of cattie, which constitute a principal part of the wealth of the canton. SCHRABZIEGER CHEESE. 189 ^ The town, which contains some five or six thousand souls, lies along the Linth, principaUy in one extended street. This is the place where the cheese so well known in America, the Schrabzieger, is made.* The peculiar smell of the cheese was quite strong on approaching the town. It was like meeting with an old acquaintance ; and as I had but an hour to stay, I hastened to one of the places where it is made. The curds are formed on the mountains, the milk of goats and cows being used indifferentiy. Indeed, so far as I could hear or see, the cheese, in this respect, differs from no other, except that it is made of the whey left after a churning. When formed, the curds are brought down to the valley in bags. I met a waggon loaded with them, as we entered the place. In this state, there is nothing peculiar in the taste ; nor does the material seem at all rich, as you can very well imagine. It is pressed as dry as possible, and then put into a mill, re sembling a small cider-mill; the one I examined being turned by water. There might have been a hundred- weight of curds in this miU, and the wheel was passing oyer it constantly, with no one to superintend the operation. I presume the con sistency of the cheese is owing to this thorough kneading, and the subsequent pressure, though those I questioned pretended that there is a virtue in the particular pastures. The peculiar colour, scent, and flavour are imparted by the herb,f wbich is grown in the valley, dried, pulverized, and incorporated with the mass in the miU. The odour of the powder was strong, and its taste vegetable; but I liked it less, pure, than in the cheese. The latier is thought to attain perfection in 3 twelvemonth, though it wUl keep a long time. I bought a small cheese, and took my leave of the establishment. Out of Glaris, I know no place where the Schrabzieger is so often met with as in Broadway. The name, so far as my knowledge extends, is compounded of zieger (goats), and some local * I never met with one of these cheeses in any part of Europe, Glaris itself excepted ; nor did I ever hear an Englishman, German, or Frenchman say that he knew tbe cheese at all. t Trifolium melilot. c«rul., or, a |)lue pansy. 190 NOBLEMAN'S DWELLING. word that means either plant, or the name of a plant. The latter, however, is purely conjecture. Bush is shrub, in Ger man; hutschrab sounds so near it, that I dare say it is some obsolete word of the same signification, although it is no more than fair to repeat to you that this is sheer conjecture. Glaris has some manufactures, that are conducted in a pastoral and pleasing manner, and in a way greatly to obviate the vices and broken constitutions of a crowded population. I saw an orchard this afternoon, completely covered with pocket-handkerchiefs, bleaching on the grass, the sight creat ing an irresistible desire to blow one's nose ! The town is principally built of stone, roughcast. The houses bave projecting roofs, but, in other respects, are more hke tbe buildings near the Rhine than those we are accustomed to consider Swiss. Many are painted externally, in designs, one of which was as foUows. The basement was quite plain, having two doors, and a single grated window. All this is above ground, you wUI understand, no people burrowing, I believe, but the Manhattanese, and their humble imitators, The first floor had one large window, also protected by a grate, that had once been gUded ; then comes a bit of wall, that was painted lo resemble a window, a lion rampant being visible within. The rest of this floor had the common small Swiss windows, or, in other words, was nearly all window* The second floor had two small windows, with a coat of arms between them, bearing the coronet of a count, by which you will perceive the house I am describing was patrician. On tbe space of wall on one side of the window is a mounted knight, armed cop-d-pie, with his lance in the rest, in the act of tUting. On the opposite space, another mounted warrior, without armour, is drawing an arrow lo the head. They ap pear to be opposed lo each other, though separated by the windows and the armorial bearings. All the windows have painted ornaments and a littie boy, who forms part of the one nearest the armed knight, is stretching out a hand, as if to seize the head of his lance. The third floor has three win dows, well garnished with boys. The fourth has but one real WESEN. 191 window; but near it is one painted, at which a lady is seated, looking down complacently, and pointing with a finger at the armed knight. The figures are all as large as life. The whole is in colours, and the paintings are far from being as bad as the conceits would give reason to suppose. These are queer ornaments, certainly, for the exterior of a nobleman's dweUing, though it is probable they have some allusion to i material pasage in the history of the famUy. They may pos sibly refer to the battle of Naefels, in which a few mountain eers defeated the heavily-armed troops of Austria. Opposite this patrician dweUing is an inn, bearing the date of 1 609, with a wUd man, some twelve or fifteen feet high, painted on the plaster. The colours are quite fresh, and look as if they had been recentiy retouched. There is certainly some hazard in a traveller's entering a country and quitting it within six hours, and then pretending to give an account of its habits. I believe my whole visit to the canton of Glaris did not occupy more time than this, and yet I cannot quit the place without protesting against one of its practices. Cattle are slaughtered in the public streets. I saw three sheep and a calf, under the hands of as many butchers, in the very heart of the place. I have seen something like this in French villages, but never before in a capital! In the evening we returned, by the road we had come, to a point near the battie-ground of Naefels, where we crossed the valley; and, following the banks of the foaming Linth, proceeded to Wesen, on tbe shore of the lake of Wallen stadt, in the canton of St. GaU. Tbe boundary is a canal, which connects the Wallenstadt with the lake of Zurich. This Utile inroad into Glaris already seems like a dream. The place is so retired, the mountains are so wild and abrupt, and there is so great an admixture of the savage with the ci vUized, that it stands distinct and isolated, amid the multitude of images that this fruitful region has supplied. 192 LETTER XVII. Country between the Lakes of Wallenstadt and Zurich,— -Wesen. — Lake and Town of Wallenstadt. — Sargans. — Its Castle, — Route for Germany and Italy. — Change in the Course of the Rhine, — Ruins of Chateaux, — Deep Gorge. — Baths of Pfeffers. My dear , By casting a glance at the map, you will perceive that the lakes of WaUenstadl and Zurich lie nearly in an east and west line, a few leagues asunder. The country between them, though some thirteen hundred feel above the level of the sea, has the character of a bottom rather than that of a valley. It is bounded by enormous mountains, it is true, but the Streams which descend from them had converted the place into a vast marsh. The Linlh having caused most of the mischief, the inhabitants have found means to bring that torrent into complete subjection. This great object has been very ingeniously effected, by turning the current of the stream into the Wallenstadt, where its waters can, at least, do no harm ; and by enlarging tbe channel of communication be tween the two lakes, which has been converted into a canal. Wesen is a small town at the western end of the Wal lenstadt, between the mountain and the strand. The lake, which is ten miles in length by two in breadth, is deemed to be the most dangerous in Switzerland, and the policed-egula- tions for the boats are the most rigorous. In addition to other rules, the watermen are commanded narrowly to consult the weather, to keep the southern shore at certain seasons, and lo renew their skiffs once in three years. It never enters into the calculations of the mountaineers, however, to construct boats that can resist a sea, or lay up to the wind ! This lake has stiff another danger, that is more formidable than any which is produced by the weather. Its bed is said to have WALLENSTADT. 1 •226 VALLEV OF URSERN. break the fall ofheavy bodies of snow, but to divide the masses, throwing ihem off on its two sides. It is now a slight and seemingly a perishable defence, though the form of the rocks contribute to aid it, for I observed many freshly-broken trees, and even slumps that had been left by the axe. I was after wards told, by an inhabitant, that the contending armies, in 1799, destroyed many of the trees ; and that, weakened by this inroad, each successive year has seen a decrease in the number of these all-important sentinels. A few more winters, and those that are left may be swept away at a single swoop ; when it wUI become necessary to abandon the town. Such is an Alpine existence ! Andermatt, though in a valley, stands at an elevation of nearly 5000 feet above tide ; the St. Gothard, on whose broad bosom this valley lies, rising as much more above il. It is a singular spot, and well deserving its reputation. The basin amid these savage rocks, I bave already told you, was beauti fully verdant, and most faithfully cropped. It is bounded on one end by the Ober Alp, or the mountain which I bad just descended ; on the other by tbe Furca, a passage that leads into the valley of the Rhone ; while to the south rises the last swell of the Sl. Gothard ; and to the north are smaller moun lains, bearing local names, detached parts of the same huge mass. The Reuss, wbich appears lo have four different sources, of which the principal comes down the Sl. Gothard, near Hos pital, waters this valley; and uniting its several streams, finds its way out of it, at the south-east corner, by a pass in the rocks of only a hundred feel in width. The Ursern, for so is tbe valley called, is seven miles long, and less than one in breadth, even at its widest part. To the eye, in that pure atmosphere, and amid that grand nature, it did not appear to have half these dimensions. When first seen from the Ober .4lp, I did not believe it lo be more than a third as long as I find, by examin ing tbe books, it really is. Tbe guide and horsekeeper gained on me in the descent, which, part of the way, was ticklish work, and we all came THE HOLE OF URI, 227 in together. The latter Was to be discharged, and having ex pended all my smaUer coin, I gave the former a double iouis to be changed, for the purpose of paying him. After turning the coin over in his hand, for nearly a minute, the old man begged I would give him some silver. He had been silentiy calculating his own wages, and finding that they were sufficient to absorb this piece, be felt disposed lo secure the premium on gold, by accepting it as a part of his own compensation. It set his heart at ease, by showing him a handful ; after which he had no further scruples. I may here add, that the esta blished price for a guide, in Switzerland, is six French francs a day, he paying his own expenses. After a little refreshment, we proceeded lo the point where the Reuss finds its way out of the valley, which is at no great distance from the village. We entered a gorge, between frightful rocks, where tbe river was fretting and struggling as if in a hurry to get in before us. A gloomy cave opened its yawning mouth, and, seeing no other path but the one which led into it, I was about to proceed, when the noise of bells tin kling, within caused me lo pause. Presentiy, a train of pack- horses and mules came into the valley, on their way to Italy, by tbe St. Gothard. AUowing them to pass, I went into tbe hole out of wliich they bad just issued, and found it to be a ^dark gallery about two hundred feet long, and of some ten or twelve in height and breadth. As we went through it, the roar of the Reuss, and the rushing of the winds without, mounded as if a league distant. Immediately on quilting this gaUery, which, in the dialect of the canton, is called the " Hole of Uri," * I found myself in the centre of a scene that was one of the most extraordinary I had yet beheld, in this very extra ordinary country. The Reiiss was plunging through the bottom of the gorge, a boiling torrent that falls, at an inclination of nearly five - and-twenty degrees, among broken rocks; the wind was fairly bowling through the pass; the rocks literally overhung us, * Or sometimes Urnerlock . 15' 228 THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE. nearly excluding a view of the heavens; and a slight, narrow bridge, of a single arch, spanned the gorge, with a hardihood that caused one to shudder. The infernal din, al first, nearly destroyed all power to analyze the parts of this assemblage of the fearful and the sublime. After aminute's pause, I walked on the bridge, and, stand ing in the centre, gazed around me. Its abutments were the living rock; its thickness but a thread; the span of the arch was about eighty feet; its width might have been fifteen; the height above the Reuss, a hundred ; and there was no railing ! The wind blew so furiously that I really wished for a rope lo hold on by. This was the far-famed Devil's Bridge ; the DevU's Bridge ; for the name and the manner of construction are both quite frequent in mountainous coimtries. Other bridges may have been built by imps or journeymen, but Beelzebub himself is thought lo have bad a hand in this. The road, a mere bridle-path, after crossing the bridge, winds, en coi^niche, along the rocks, and disappears at some distance below, owing to the widening of the gorge. Another train of packhorses was coming up the circuitous route, adding singularly to tbe beauty of the scene. The St. Gothard is one of the most frequented passes in tiie Alps. TraveUers, it is true, do not cross it as often as they cross by the Simplon and Spliigen, for as a carriage-road it is imperfect. Fifteen thousand persons, it is calculated, however, go into Italy, or return by this route, annually. The distance from Fluelen, on the lake of Luzerne, lo BeUinzone, near Ihat of Maggiore, is seventy miles, nearly the whole dis tance being either a. continual ascent, or a continual descent. Three hundred packhorses, or mules, cross the mountain, weekly, for a portion of the year. The cantons of Uri and Tessino, in which the whole of this pass lies, have partly completed an excellent carriage-road, with the hope of attracting some of those who are distributing their pioney so freely through thecounlry, and of making their commercial communications more perfect: The plan com prises not only a new road, bnt n new bridge in this gorge; HERDS OF GOATS. 22i) and men, slung in ropes, were then at work blasting rocks, above the present road and bridge, with this object. The new bridge is to be both larger and safer than the present; and I believe that the canton intends to compete, for the honour of its construction, with the ancient bridge-builder. In these later times, the Devil confines his labours lo throwing arches across chasms to facilitate the progress of the traveller on a different journey. I walked down Ihe road a mUe or two, and found the sce nery wUd and extraordinary : but I had evidently approached it in the wrong direction. By ascending, there is a regular gradation of wonders, until the climax is reached al the bridge. Taking this direction, the effect of the dark gaUery, and the surprise of issuing out of this chaotic confusion into the soft beauty of the valley, serve lo heighten aU. Although pre pared for tbe change, I felt, in returning, most of Ihe sensations such transitions must produce on the traveller. The roar of the river is eternal ; and my old guide assured me be never was inthe gorge, that the winds were not scuffling and howl ing, just as I then found them. I left the place with reluctance, though exceedingly fatigued, for its frightful beauties seemed as if they had been produced by a wanton effort of nature, in order to prove what might be done, at need, in the way of the savage and wild. Man, too, had wrought in precisely the manner best adapted to aid these effects ; and I question if the new huvian arch and wheel- track will be found as picturesque and appropriate as the old mule-path, and the hardiesse of the father of sin. Vast herds of goals came into the vUlage towards nightfall. I witnessed the arrival of one, which, after descending the mountain in a body, and crossing a bridge together, separated in two lines, each going its way as orderly as men, without any apparent interference of the goat-herds. Three stopped quietly before the door of the inn. A boy called to some loi terers, and they came bounding forward, licking his hands and leaping on him like dogs. 23(» LETTER XXL Hospital. — Realp, — Ascent of the Furca, — Quick Descent. — View of the Oberland Range. — Stone Huts. — Canton of Valais. — The Gallenstock. — Glacier of the Rhone, — Solemn Spectacle, — Party of English. — Two grand Discoveries. — Source of the Rhone. — Ascent of the Grimsel. — "Lake of the Dead." — The Hopital. — Sensation of Dreariness. — Gradual Descent. — Picturesque Stone Bridges. — Handeck, — Falls of the Aar, — Lines of Packhorses, — Reach Meyringen, " Dear , There was a sharp frost in the night, ice having made of the thickness of a doUar. The winter, or, in other words, the frosts prevail in this elevated valley eight months in the year. When I left the inn al Andermatt the sun bad been up more than an hour; but the ice bad not given way. This, you wUl remember, was on tbe 1 7tb of September. Hospital, as it is caUed, is about half a league from Ander matt. There is now no edifice that deserves such a name, but merely a hamlet of some five-and-twenty houses, and a church. A ruined tower contributes to its prettiness. The scene, as I passed the spot, was singularly picturesque. A line of packhorses was just issuing from the " Hole of Uri," and was holding its way steadUy and earnestly toward this point, where the road begins seriously to climb the St. Gothard. The next morning, it would be in Italy! Realp, another hamlet, scarcely deserves even this modest name, containing but three or four houses. The country was totally devoid of trees, and the grass appeared stinted and short. Thus far I proceeded alone; but the guide and anew horsekeeper now overlook me, bringing with them a horse. The pack was already attached to the saddle, and I mounted. The ascent of the Furca was by no means as precipitate as the descent from the Ober Alp. Indeed it seems to be a rule. THE OBERLAND RANGE. 231 dependent on the general geological formation of the country, that the eastern and northern acclivities should be less abrupt than the western and southern. The path up tbe side of this mountain is not entirely free from danger to those who are mounted, for it frequently runs on the verge of banks, and a mislep of the horse, of the earth's giving way, would ensure a fall. A young Englishman bad a leg broken in this manner a short time previously to my ascent. Admonished by his bad luck, 1 took sufficient care to prevent a similar calamity befalling myself. The reversed view of tbe valley was not as fine as that I had first seen. Still it was good, and its interest was much in creased by a more intimate knowledge of the localities. More than once I hesitated, on the side of the Furca, about turning back and ascending tbe St. Gothard ; but we had Italy before us for the autumn and winter, and a separation of ten days from my companions was a strong inducement to return to la Lorraine. A cross announced our arrival near the summit of the pass, which we reached before eleven. The map of Keller gives the height of this spot at 6420 French feet above the sea, which is about equal lo 7000 of our English feet. The view, eastward from the pass, was confined to a vast mountain basin, shaped not unfike an irregular funnel, and its sides were faded Alpine pastures. There was not a tree to be seen, and scarcely a shrub. The last year's snow still lay, in spots shaded from the sun, several feel in depth. The horse keeper was discharged at the cross; and, seizing the walk ing-staff, I began to descend tbe sharp declivity at a pace that extorted a remonstrance from my old companion, who had resumed the pack. He warned me that we were miles from any habitation, and that by going ahead I might get astray; and took occasion to remark, with some pretension of manner, that he now did know where he was, and might be of more use than by simply carrying my clothes. This appeal was se conded by the sudden appearance of tbe summits of the Ober land range, most of which came in view over the tops of the •ii-i GLACIER OF THE RHONE. nearest mountains to the westward. The peaks were all glit tering in the sun, and 1 greeted their reappearance as that of old acquaintances. The sides next us were exactly opposite those seen from Berne, and yet it was easy to recognise them all, so littie were the great outlines changed. We strained onr eyes, in vain, in order to detect a flag on the Jung Frau, which was to be the sign of success, in the event of the cha mois hunters of Grindewald reaching its summit. After delaying half an hour to gaze at these magnificent mounlains, we proceeded. As we descended lower into tbe funnel, external objects were completely excluded from sight, and the contemplations of those within the treeless basin were not particularly agreeable. A few huts of stone, places of refuge for goatherds, were the only relief to the mo notony of withered pastures. Near one of these huts were two or three springs, which, I learned from Ebel, some peo ple affect to call the true sources of the Rhone. The water trickled from them, in a little rill, toward a concealed open ing, by which the basin communicates with the great valley westward. I beg pardon of the republic of Valais, for for getting to mention that we entered its territory on the summit, tbe line crossing the pass of the Furca nearly at right angles. The cross, I believe, stands on the frontier. The guide was again left behind, and plunging rather than walking downward, I was brought to a halt by another grand and unexpected sight. The mountain on the right, or the north, of the Furca, is called the Gallenstock, a name, I dare say, that you never heard before, though it rises nearly eleven thousand feet above the level of the tides. The higher parts of this mountain are, of course, covered with snow, wher ever the element can lodge. Fields of eternal ice cover the vastvalley that lies between it and itsnorthern neighbours; and from this immense reservoir descends, into the lowest part of the basin in which 1 was travelling, the particular body of ice that is called the Glacier of the Rhone. It now lay directly before me, apparently closing all exit from the funnel, excepH by returning to tiie Furca, SOLEMN SPECTACLE. 2;i3 This glacier is both sublime and beautiful; subUme by its vastness and grandeur, and beautiful in the purity of the ele ment and in its minuter forms. It is, 1 think, out of aU com parison, finer than either of the glaciers of Grindewald. It also has one feature peculiar to itself. The margin of the field above, where it faUs toward the valley, is marked by a high precipice of ice, resembling a wall, the inclined plane of the glacier being supplied from the frozen magazines beneath. The deserted huts excepted, not a sign of man was visible. I had got so far ahead of tbe guide as to be out of sight, and took a seat on a stone, at the part of the basin opposite the glacier, near the path which winds around its sides, in fixed contemplation of the magnificent solitude. It was an exquisite moment, for every object that could divert the intensity of admiration was completely excluded from sight. I appeared lo be alone with the glacier, enclosed in this cropped and semi-sterile Alpine basin. The spot seemed created for the abode of eternal repose! Occasionally a groan issued from the mountains, produced by the rending of ice: an interrup tion admirably suited to the solemn spectacle. The tinkling of a shoe against a stone aroused me from a trance of contem plation, and a multitude of thick-coming fancies, and presently a line of travellers came round a projection of the hUl-side, foUowing the path that led from the valley. They were Eng lish, at a glance. I felt disposed to anathematize the rest lessness which drives these people, full-dressed, and conven tional, just as they issue from their assize baUs and county dinners, into every hole and cranny of Europe. This was the impulse of disappointment, aud sufficiently unreasonable, since, apart from having quite as good a right lo come from England lo the glacier of the Rhone, as one has to come from America, the English are observant and bold travellers. No people had greater need of communication with the rest of mankind than the islanders of 1814, and no people could have turned the advantages gained by the peace to better account. The were two ladies and a maid on horseback, two gentle men afoot, and ,i guide or two, 1 rose lo hazard a bow lo 231 SOURCE OF THE RHONE. the first, — one runs as much risk of being thought imperti nent, as of being thought polite on such occasions — but this lime I was answered by a bending of very soft eyes, and, as I suspected, of slightiy stubborn dispositions also. There was more of the world about the men, who inquired frankly for news; but I had none to give them, having been nearly a fort night in the hills. Some small remains of the old profession probably hangs about me, for the elder of the two good- naturedly took the trouble lo tell me, as a matter of mutual interest, that Sir Herbert Taylor bad been made adjutant- general! After these material preliminaries were duly dis posed of, they enquired if the passage of the Furca was free of snow. Being satisfied on this point, they said tbe Grimsel was a little ticklish, and we parted. I account this adventure as my second grand discovery, since entering Switzerland. The first is the mountain, of which I have already bad occa sion to boast; and tbe other is the vaUey of tbe glacier of the Rhone, which I now announce to beaspot sufficiently secluded and without the pale of human conventions, to render it safe to make a bow to English men and English women, with some certainly of meeting with a proper return. The guide having joined me, we proceeded lo the glacier. The Rhone gushes out of the ice, a river at its birth. It may answer the caprice of poetry, to caU the little rill that flows from tbe springs, and which joins the stream below, the true source of the Rhone, but it is like ascribing the force of the tornado lo tbe particles of dust that it raises. To all prac tical purposes, the Rhone issues from this glacier, from which a thousand drops are derived for one that comes from the springs. It is true that a riU would run through this valley, were tbe glacier away, and that, receiving the continual con tributions of the mountains, it would gradually become a stream ; but, as 1 have just told you, the glacier sends forth a river from the start. Most of tbe particularities already described in the account of Grindewald are to be seen here, with the exception that the ice is much purer and whiter. The river runs through a ASCENT OF THE GRIMSEL. V35 pass so narrow, a short distance below Us commencement, that it is impossible this glacier can ever materially extend its limits; at least the basin must be first filled, and this would be the work of centuries ; though the ice is said to have for merly thrust itself a few hundred feet lower than it is at pre sent. We crossed the Rhone by a bridge, a short distance from the glacier, and reached the foot of the Grimsel. The pros pect was any thing but agreeable, as I stood looking up its sleep side. The Righi, the heaven-ascending stairs excepted, was not anywhere so steep, though certainly much higher. The afternoon sun, loo, was beating on the side of the ascent, and there was not a breath Of air. The guide manifested what be thought of tbe matter, by very deliberately taking off the pack, and beginning to strip. When he was ready, we went at it, with all our resolution. In about five minutes, my coat was on my arm ; in less than ten I began to look back wistfully at the glacier, which presented a most invitingly cool aspect. Luckily we got a littie snow near the summit, with wbich to cool our parched mouths, but from some cause or other (the heat, perhaps), this was much the severest ascent I had yet overcome. Once or twice, the throbbing of my heart was so severe, that I thought it would leap out of my mouth ; and, as for the old guide, with whom it was a point of honour to refuse all aid in carrying the pack, he consoled himself at every halt, of wbich we made fifty, by exclaiming, " Point de bagatelle, monsir .'" There were two paths, when aU our difficulties in the ascent were overcome. One, the safest but tbe longest, led over the rocky bead of the Grimsel, while the other passed under its brow, en corniche. The latter leads along the verge of a precipice, where a false step might prove destruction. This spot was now covered with moist snow, to the depth of two feet, and il was not easy to find the path. I made a hasty computation, by which it was shown that if the snow yielded, or either of us slipped, he would probably fall about four hundred feet. It was blind work, and we had to feel our way 2aB LAKE OF THE DEAD. with the pikes. This was the only spot, apart from the gla ciers, that I bad seen in Switzerland, wbich struck me as being at all dangerous for those who travel on foot, and who use ordinary caution. The Grimsel, like the Ober Alp, has a littie blue sheet, which is called the " Lake of the Dead." The pass is not quite as high as the Furca, but more strongly marked by the features that belong to a great elevation. Ebel, however, says that it is rather more than seven thousand English feet above the sea. There is littie besides rocks on the summit, though it is possible for a few goats to live among them. The line between the Valais and Berne runs along this ridge of mountains, and, of course, we re-entered the great canton at this point. Two littie rills trickle from the lake, one of which joins the Rhone, and the other the Aar : it follows that this secluded sheet of water sends tribute equally to the Mediterranean and to the North Sea. High poles, beacons for the traveller in winter, marked the path, as we descended, by a sort of magnificent natural stairs, to the Hopital. We found this place half a league below the summit, in a most savage valley, where little else was visi ble, besides rocks piled on each other in every possible form, and another lake, that has the reputation of being both deep and well filled with fish. The building is of stone, but of no great size. It is, in truth, a rude tavern. Berne being a Protestant canton, unlike most of the Swiss establishments of this nature, the Hopital of the Grimsel is not connected with a religious community. Ebel gives its elevation above the sea at about six thousand English feet, and, of course, it lies a thousand feet below the pass. The establishment is farmed out, its keeper being obliged to remain in this isolated spot, from March to November. Il was still early, though too late lo think of proceeding any further that night, and I wandered about among the rocks with a strange sensation of dreariness. I was the only traveller who had arrived, and the five or six people who belonged to the place \\ ere all busy. The view is limited littie else being DESCENT OF THE GRIMSEL. 237 visible but granite, which had the appearance of being stored here in readiness to be used in the construction of mountains, as they might be wanted. In the evening, a large herd of goats collected before the door, with udders so distended, that they caused me to look around for the pastures on which they had been filled. A party of bustiing Germans, from Holstein, arrived a littie before sunset. What the honest innkeeper did with them all, I cannot say, but, after a good many misgivings on the subject, I secured a small room to myself. In Europe, I believe no emergency ever compels two men, pretending to be gentie- men, to share the same bed ; at least, no such calamity was ever even proposed to me. We were on the road the next day as the sun lighted the ragged glens. Luckily, all the other travellers were going up the Grimsel, and we had the woods and solitudes of the descent to ourselves, a pleasure that must be enjoyed to be appreciated. The path follows the little stream which runs from the lake, but wbich soon joins the Aar ; at this place, a swift roaring brook. This river has its rise in a glacier on the side of the Finsler Aar Horn,* at no great distance from theHopital. The descent was quite gradual, and, for the first league, the path was charmingly sequestered. We crossed tbe Aar several limes, on picturesque littie stone bridges of single arches, which were quite jewels in their way. They were just the sort of thing that a fine taste would select as ornaments for the rustic scenery of a park, and meeting them here, as it were, in the natural way, caused equally pleasure and surprise. They were designed by a painter, though the man never saw a pencU. Alas ! there is not such a bridge as either of these, which ornament a wUd, savage, mountain pass, in the whole of matter-of-fact, utility-loving, and picturesque-despising America ! I should think that the ascent lo the Grimsel, by this road, would give more pleasure than the descent. Still, lake it, ' Black Aar Peak, 238 TABLE MOUNTAIN. which way you will, there is a gradation of changes at each step, until the extremes complete one of the most striking tran sitions possible. After two leagues of delightful march, that appeared more like a morning walk through an open wood, than a journey, we reached Handeck, near the celebrated falls of the Aar. The river plunges into a narrow and deep ravine, taking a new level, like a canal. This cascade, I think justiy, has the highest reputation of any in .Switzerland. But, beyond its dimensions and general character, description would be very unsatisfactory. The pitch must be some sixty or eighty feet : there is plenty of water for a cascade : the mind is not dis tracted from its contemplations by other objects, when one is in tbe ravine : and there is a collateral charm, in a littie trans verse faU, produced by a smaUer stream, that comes in at right angles, and shoots its waters into the same gulf, and at precisely the same point with the Aar. I believe Ibis is an unique incident in the history of waterfalls. The country became more open as we continued lo descend. A singular, low table-mountain stood directly across the end of the principal valley, barely leaving room for the river to flow between it and the lateral rocks. This hUl, jvhich, in appearance, resembles a huge artificial mound, we were obliged to cross. It was the work of near an hour, but while we were winding down its lower side by a romantic path, the view towards the lake of Brienz well rewarded me for the toil. Some lines of packhorses increased the beauty of tbe picture. A raUroad may argue greater advancement in civi lization, but these classical-looking little cavalcades contribute singularly to tbe picturesque. They are particularly appro priate in a Swiss landscape, and I have never met one without feeling how admirably they are brought in lo aid the effect of winding paths, rocky ascents, and deep glens. At length, we walked into tbe inn at Meyringen, where 1 was right glad to obtain rest and refreshment. 23!) LETTER XXII. A Discussion on West India Slavery.— Hire a Char for Brienz— Interlachen. — Chamois Hunters reach the summit of the Jung Frau. — -Unterseen. — Galignani's Messenger. — The "Twelve Millions."— New Tariff.— Peculia rity inthe English Character. — Its cause,— Policy of England,— Effect ol Vituperation. — ^English, American, and French Press. — Mr. Huskisson and Free Trade. — Fatigue of Sight-seeing, — Depart for Berne. — Lake ol Thun. — Mercenary Soldiers. — Swiss Chivalry at Thun, — Perfidy of Voi turier, — Part with Guide. — La Lorraine. My dear^ — ¦ — , Two Enghshmen were discussing the question of West India slavery, at another table, in the room where I soon seated myself, at dinner. One was eloquent in his expressions of regret, that no other nation was sufficientiy strong to wrest the islands from Great Britain, for the sole object of Uberating the negroes. The other reproved this phUanthropy, as unpatriotic, reminding his friend that sugar and rum were very good things, in their way ; and that England would make a very poor figure without them. He assured the philanthropist, moreover, that tbe planters consumed so large an amount of the English manufactures, they could not well be spared ; and that the liberation of their blacks would infaUibly strip them of the ability to buy, by stripping them of the ability to sell. The other was a wholesale religionist, and was for getting rid of the sin by a coup de main. This led to a nice dissertation on the nature of sin in general, and on its particular connexion with slavery. In short, the whole dialogue was an amusing exhibition of a zealous and exaggerated philanthropy battering in vain against the flint-like intrenchments of cupidity. The name of America was introduced ; but it was soon disposed of as too insignificant to furnish an example, either for good or for evil. The assault ended, as such trials of skill usuaUy end, — he of the sugar and rum, doggedly maintaining his po- 240 GALIGNANI'S MESSENGER. sition of the usefulness of the articles, and he of the universal emancipation, virtually objecting that a man's soul was of too much value lo be bargained away for toddy. I left the metaphysicians on the horns of their dilemmas, and got into a char for Brienz, where, on arriving, we hickUy found the mail boat ready lo depart, and we were rowed down lo Interlachen in very good season. The sun was still high, and determining to take my old quarters at Unterseen, I lin gered for an hour along the road. On reaching the point where the view of the Jung Frau is obtained, we looked with some curiosity for the promised sign of the success of the cha mois hunters. Sure enough, a little flag, or what seemed lo be a flag not larger than a pocket handkerchief, was fluttering in a smart breeze. To a good eye, it was, at moments, dis tinctiy visible, owing, I presume, to the exceeding purity of the medium. It was evident, by the quickness with which it flapped, and from the certainly the flag must be of some size to be seen so far, that the wind was blowing fresh aloft, though the lakes were reflecting the rays of the sun from their glassy surfaces, like mirrors. The heroes of Grindewald had triumphed, and the honour of first ascending this virgin moun tain was preserved lo Switzerland ! Unterseen improves on acquaintance. It is intrinsically a Swiss town in its exterior; but the great inroad of strangers is only loo fast altering the character of the people. 31en require all the fixed relations of society to keep them within the bounds of good morals, in addition to the general obliga tions of religion ; and a community that is brought incessantly in contact with strangers, inevitably will suffer a diminution of the sense of right. We are all more cautious of deportment in our own houses than when out of them ; at home than when abroad ; under the responsibilities of an association that is permanent, than under those of a more passing interview. An English journal, published at Paris, called Galignani's Messenger, allhough totally destitute of any fixed character of its own, is the most useful print in Europe. It is chiefly com posed of well-selected arlicles from the best European news ITS SUPERIOR Utility. 211 papers, and, as this duty is done with sufficient impartiality and a great deal of lact and experience, I feel persuaded that a constant reader of this paper, who is a cool observer, and who wishes to obtain truths rather than support a system, wiU get a more accurate idea of what is really going on in Europe from its columns, than in any other manner, except that of being a principal actor in the events themselves. I sat down to a file of this journal the moment the inn was entered, and in half an hour was au fait of all that bad passed in the civilized world within the last fortnight, and the news of which had had time to reach Unterseen. Among other important occurrences, I had official confirmation that Sir Hebert Taylor was made adjutant general. Truly, the " twelve miUions" are of very little account in the estimation of their fellow Christians! The gentlemen whom I met at the glacier bad never supposed it possible I could be anything but an Englishman, and this, quite likely, because 1 was not a son of Ham. The papers, however, just then, were dragging us into rather more notice than common, on account of the new tariff, which afforded a singularly good occasion for abuse. I have already told you how strong was the sensation produced in London by this measure — the women, in society, introducing it even as a subject of absorb ing interest. By the women, I do not mean those who go into the world merely to see and be seen, but that class of Eng lishwomen (and a numerous and highly creditable class it is) who reflect on the condition of their country, foresee its hazards, jinderstand its interests, and reason patriotically, at least, if not always fairly, on the means of supporting them. A hundred ludicrous attempts were made to convince me we never could succeed as manufacturers. My argument was the fact that we had succeeded thus far; and that the past was, in this respect, a sufficient pledge for the future. But one who knows Eng land can easUy appreciate the extent and nature of her ap prehensions on this interesting subject by the tone of the public prints. They have reopened upon us their batteries of blackguardism. This is a peculiar feature in English cha- 10 242 PECULIARITY IN racter, and is worihy to be known. Were the Billingsgate confined lo us, I could easily imagine that, understanding the mental dependence of the larger portion of the reading com munity, it was intended for effect in America, where the abuse would be read ; but, in point of fact, the same course is observ ed towards other nations, where the abuse cannot be read, and as respects which it is so many " pearls cast before swine. " The practice bas excited a good deal of remark, and general disgust. Washington pronounced the English to be the most abusive nation on earth, near fifty years ago ; and a remark of Ibis nature, coming from so pure a source, is entitled lo pro found consideration. As a matter of course, the prints which are the most distinguished for talent are the least addicted lo this practice; though there are some in which admirable arti cles occasionally appear, that do not disdain the alliance with the fishwomen. As a rule, however, I think no summary of English character can ever be complete, without giving a con spicuous place to the national propensity to black guard those who stand in the way of the national interests. In the present case, Mr. Huskisson is the champion of English rights. In his zeal for the cause, he has gone so far as to declare in Parliament that our Tariff is a violation of the treaty between tbe two countries ! The Times, Courier, and Standard overwhelm us with the coarsest accusations, and we are loudly menaced with all sorts of calamities. Our most virtuous citizens are stigmatized as being anything but gentlemen, and occasionally a sweeping paragraph, more especially in the Standard, consigns the whole nation, at one swoop, to the devil!* * The most ludicrous result that I have ever observed in connexion with this system of blackguarding, which is beyond question a national trait, grew out of the appearance of the cholera, in 1832. The disease first reached the ocean at Hamburgh. After a delay of a few weeks, it suddenly appeared in England. The King of Holland immediately established a quarantine between the infected ports and his own dominions. Thereupon, the Times opened its vorabulary of well-bred epithets. His Majesty, who was by no means in favour, on account of his pertinaciously adhering to a treaty that it was inconvenient to England, just at that moment, to respect, was called i "pig-headed Dutchman," a "fellow behind the age," and by a THE ENGLISH CHARACTER. 213 I think it would be quite easy lo establish the fact of this peculiarity in the English character; bnt it is not quite so easy to account for it. After adopting various theories, I have comelo the opinion it proceeds from the natureof Eng lish interests, which, owing to their being extremely artificial, get to be so high-wrought, if one may use the expression, that they are constantiy liable to be injured by any justifiable measure lo which others may resort for their own good. All purely commercial communities have the same tendency to a jealous and ferocious watchfulness of the pocket; and they invariably think il is a sufficient plea for retaliation, that any person or thing invades their interests, without stopping to examine the abstract questions of right and wrong. As in most instances active retaliation is impossible, and impulses of this sort are usually transient, where interests are constantly fluctuating, for want of efficient remedies, they have recourse to the natural substitute, abuse. We are not guiltless of a leaning to the same vice; audit is quite apparent that Ihe tone of the journals at home is less measured and- decent in the commercial than in the planting stales. The whole, of course, belongs to a principle inherent in human nature; but the constant jeopardy and engrossing magnitude of commer cial interests renderthemmore acliveas excitingcauses.*Men, usuaUy, wil! fight for their money, and when precluded from defending il in acts, they wiU not fail to defend it with their tongues. After a time, cause and effect get to be reciprocal ; and the public, which at first was treated with vituperation v.iriety of similar gentlemanlike and intellectual names. This lasted a few days, gradually waxing hotter and hotter, when suddenly there was a ces sation of abuse. An attentive observer of all that passed around me, I watched curiously for the denouement. A few days latter an Order in Council appeared, soi!. de St. Cricq, I beUeve) was making a tour of observation along this frontier, when he suddenly diverged from his Une of route, and entered Geneva. Without waiting lo bave his arrival known, he repaired to a manufacturer, and bought jewellery to a considerable amount, on the terms just mentioned, leav ing a certain sum in pledge. His purchase effected, he left the place as privately as he had arrived, and returned to Paris, issuing orders lo his subordinates to be on the watch for the expected package. A few days later, a stranger demanded permission to be admitted lo his cabi/iet. This person enter ed, and, depositing the jewels, presented his bUl for theunpaid balance. The money was honourably/orthcoming ; and the the manuscripts had been examined. This occurred in lb29, or during the reign of Charles Xth and the Jesuits ! Voltaire, his will, his opinions, and bis wishes seemed to be forgotten alike ; for all that was known of the matter was, that the hotel was no longer closed and nninhabited. If there is no error in the dates, it is probable that the ruling powers forbade the publication. The spasmodic state of religious inquiry, however, has passed, and is succeeded by the decencies of a political expediency ; few appearing to trouble themselves about M, de Voltaire, his church, his prophecies, or his apotheosis. RETURN TO J.,AIJ,SANNE. 277 perplexed minister, who had given especial and most rigid or ders for the seizure of the expected trinkets, offered a handsome reward if the agent of ihemanufaclurer would tell him inwhat manner they had reached Paris. The terms were accepted, and, the money being pocketed, — " Monsieur" said the smuggler, " you were known, and we found means to send the articles across the frontier in your own baggage."* The delay in the delivery had been made merely to conceal tbe means. After remaining two days at Geneva, knowing no one (for this is a place in which to mingle with the world), I returned in the boat to Lausanne. We had a great many English on board as usual, and among them was one who, by his dis course, was a Methodist. On inquiry, I found that the people of his sect were supposed lo be at the bottom of the great re ligious schism that existed at Geneva. He was complaining of some interference of the authorities, and exulting in the progress of the good cause in tbe same breath, and all in measured, didactic, go-by-rule manner, that strongly reminded me of a large class of our own dogged religionists at home, — a class in which, by-lhe-way, charity is 7iot the chiefest of virtues. We reached Lausanne in good season, and I made ar rangements to return to Berne the following day. Il is at all times disagreeable lo dwell on the knavery one encounters in travelling ; but I should do injustice to my theme were I to omit a bit of roguery of which I was the subject on this oc casion. A waiter of the inn introduced a fellow who an nounced himself as one who had a return carriage fOr Berne. I distinctly made a bargain with him, to fake it for the next day. He had left the room, when, suddenly returning, he inquired if I had any objection to a travelling companion. He was told, none in the world, provided he was a respectable man, and there was but one. With this understanding he left me. " This story was afterwards confirmed to the writer by the chief of the French customs. 278 ROGUERY OF VOITURIER, The next morning the voiturier appeared in quest of my luggage, giving as an excuse for not bringing the carriage to the door, the difficulty of turning in so narrow a street. I fol lowed him to the vehicle, which I found occupied already by four, while two more were expected. The fellow refused lo return my effects, and after some altercation proceeded with Ihem, locked up in his vehicle. This bit of rascality occurred in the open street before twenty people, and no one appeared to take any interest in it. I inquired for a magistrate, for the police, for any one having authority lo arrest a proceeding so flagrant; — was sent here and there without finding any one, untU I began to perceive that all about the inn were leagued together. It was certainly the most unprovoked and flagrant outrage that I ever knew committed on a traveller; and yet I had absolutely great difficulty in finding any one who would even tell me where a magistrate lived ! Despairing of justice in Lausanne, I obtained another car riage, and proceeded towards Berne. At Payerne, the scoun drel boasted that he had the effects of an Englishman who had cheated him out of his passage-rnoney. But I had faith in the police of the BUrgerschaft, and foUowed quietly on next morning. On reaching la Lorraine, no time was lost in hunt ing up the rogue, and in bringing him before the authorities. I was without any witness beyond my own allegations, and the magistrate, whUe he had no difiicully in believing all I told him, frankly acknowledged that he could afford no redress, as the fellow denied every iota of my statements. Here was a dUemma! At length, by dint of cross-examination, the scoun drel began to contradict himself, when, finding that he was fast getting into a scrape, he opened a volley of abuse on tbe magistrate, which soon settied the matter altogether in my fa- your. The affair ended by sending the voiturier to prison for a fortnight, and by returning me my effects, among which was the journal, from which my letters to you have derived all their facts. This is the second imposition of the sort I have met with in Switzeriand, They are the natural consequences of the tran- AVENTICUM, 279 sient connexions which exist between those who pass unknown through a country, and those who live by getting all they can out of them. I should be sorry to stigmatize a population for the misconduct of a few; but the connivance of the innkeeper, of his servants, and of aU about the inn at Lausanne, on this occasion, was of a characterto leave the most unpleasant recol lections of the place, and such as I had never before witnessed. It was like the cool roguery that appears in the pages of Gil Bias; and, more than once, I was as much disposed to laugh at, as I was to denounce it. But this knavish incident has hurried me along the highway a little too fast. I ought to have made a short halt at Avenche, which I took occasion to visit more deliberately, on my way back to Berne. It is said that the walls of the ancient town can be traced for a considerable extent, and that their entire circumference was not less than three miles. This, after all, is not an enceinte of any great extent, but il must be remem bered that military stations are usually compressed as much as possible, and that the population was crowded into an ex ceedingly small compass. Rome ilself would not be deemed a particularly large town, estimated by the space enclosed within its walls, which still exist. It is pretended that the lake of Mo rat, now distant fully a mile, formeriy washed the walls of Aventicum. As the country is low, and the lake unusually shaUow, this may very well bave been true. I followed the Une of the wall, a mouldering pUe of bricks and stones, up the ascent that is crowned by the tower men tioned in a former letter. Works of this kind have a uniform character, whether constructed in Italy, or among the bar barians. The lowers are littie bastions tb enfilade the curtain of wall, which is commanded, for an arrow's flight, by their greater and advanced positions. They are almost always open on the side next the town. This of Aventicum was very simple, and probably never excited half as much interest when filled with Roman troops, as it does to-day, a monument of eighteen centuries. 280 LETTER XXVI. Preparations for ajourney Southward. — .Agreement with Voiturier. — Cli mate of Switzerland and America. — Adieu to la Lorraine. — Payerne. — Quails. — English Travellers. — Moudon. — An "Auberge inevitable." — Ravishing View. — Climate of Vevey. — Foraging Postilion. — Fairy Scene. — Feeling of calm Satisfaction. — An American Resident. — Castle of Chillon. — Trial of Speed with a Steamboat. — Villeneuve. Dear , The week succeeding my return from Geneva was passed in preparations for a migration southward, travellers usuaUy quilting the mountains like birds, all near the same time. The weather began to give us hints that the season of flight was at hand. As it is my intention to revisit the cantons before re turning home, I shall defer most of my general remarks to fu ture letters, and proceed quietiy with the simple narrative of our movements. So many terrible tales are related of Italian roguery, and their postmasters and vetturini bear such bad characters, that my great concern, for the last week, had been to obtain a cer tain and commodious conveyance to Florence. The recent spe- ci men of what one has to expect from chance bai'gains, awaken ed all my caution. The owner of the job-horses, used since our arrival at Berne, being extensively engaged as a voiturier, and bearing a good name, I struck a bargain with him on this all-important oifcasion. You would smile to see the "charter-party," that was duly made out between us, every thing being as much informd le^i^ as if it had been a contract to transport a cargo of leas from China lo New York. There was no insurance effected, it is true; but that might be an im provement, also. The " party of the first part, covenanted to and with the party of the second part," lo deliver him safe and sound in the ADIEU TO I,A LORRAINE, 281 city of Florence within eleven travelling days, le dit sieur agreeing to pay so much per rf/em, for all delays that should proceed solely from his own sovereign will and pleasure, as was meet in the premises. I was furnished with four lively little horses, that were attached to my own travelling car riage, and the voiturier found afourgon, or baggage-waggon, with another pair of cattle, to convey the domestics and trunks. This was a very exceUent arrangement, for, after reserving a few night-sacks, the rest of the luggage. could be put under lock and key, and there remain, until it was wanted for the toilette, in some large town, or was carried off en 7nasse, by banditti. As this was our first experiment, in tra velling by contract, I watched the result with a good deal of curiosity, allhough I did not dip at once so far into the practice, as lo permit 'fe dit sieur' to be fed as well as trans ported.* It was the eighth of October before we left la Lorraine, and fires had become very acceptable in the evenings. We were much struck, in this as in many olher particulars, with the istrong resemblance in the climate to that of our own hills; though I think we have rather the advantage of the Swiss, in the greater duration of tbe pleasant season. There is no es sential difference between the elevation of Geneva and that of C n, although one lies in 46° 57', and our own village is in 43°- We parted from the worthy people of la Lorraine with regret, and many tears were shed among the " women kind." The family of M. W had been uniformly kind, frank, and even affectionate ; feelings it is so rare for travellers to excite, that they won rapidly on our esteem. The aristocracy of tbe worthy captain was as mild as I hope my own de mocracy was reasonable, and I beheve our little discussions * The writer subsequently submitted to this mode of getting along, by way of ascertaining its comparative merits, and would advise no one tore- sort to it, who has the means of paying for his own dinner. The Bernese voiturier turned out to be a respectable man, 7 Caspar was an old roadster, and I desired him to name the different objects as we proceeded, the highway being so smooth, that the rattiing of the carriage was scarcely audible. He discharged the duty without a spark of poetry, but with the inteUigence of a postilion, and tbe brevity of a dragoon. " MeUleurie," " St. Gingoulph" aided by a gesture with the whip, were sufficient. As the honest fellow went through the different names as regularly as if he had been at roll-call, and I kept the map open before me, I believe we missed no thing that such a flight could bestow. "Blonay, meinheer" cried the ci-devant dragoon, pointing to a picturesque cha teau, that stood back, seated on a swell of the verdant moun tain-side. " Chdtelard," pointing to an isolated, but mas sive, venerable tower, that topped a fittie rocky eminence, near by, " Clarens," a village that we almost entered. " Mon- treux," another, that lay against the pile before us. " Ville neuve," a town across a bay, that was on the strand, and to wards which we were wending our way, as fast as four nimble horses could trot. " !" exclaimed A , as we descended a hill, near the gate of a villa, where stood a gentie man, his hands in his pockets, with the quiet air of one who was before his own door. The individual who had so unex pectedly broken in on the roll-call of honest Caspar, was a native of New York, and a distant relation of A 's, whose father having succeeded, lo the famUy property and honours, in the mother country, had " gone home," as it used lo be ex pressed, whence, as it now appeared, this member of the fa mUy had once more " gone abroad." He showed his taste in the choice of a residence, for it would not be easy to select a more lovely spot between Copenhagen and Naples, than the precise place in which we got this transient ghmpse of one, who stood in this peculiar relation to so many of our party. But the whole coast was lined with small country houses, which were continually peeping out from among the shrubbery and fruit trees, at a littie distance on our left. On the right, there was room for nothing, the carriage wheels coming frequently within a few yards of the blue lake. -m CHILLON. After proceeding in this manner for several miles, we di verged a little from the strand, and we next got from among the wines into a place where the road led through nut-trees, and passed down a gentle descent, beneath a beetiing cliff', back towards the water. The change from ihe vines to the freedom of nature helped lo keep up the pleasure, and we were just expressing as much, when the towers of an irregular pile glimmered through the foliage, directiy be.''ore us, and within a hundred yards. " Chillon .'" cried the indefatigable and methodical Caspar. " Arretez," responded your humble servant. The obedient campaigner pulled up directly before tbe gate of this celebrated castie. But the sun had already disappeared behind the mountain, and Caspar reminded us that a steamboat was in sight, making the best of her way to wards VUleneuve, which town had but one inn where il would be at all agreeable to pass the night. At the same time he looked as if his grays would be all the better for a feed, and for a good grooming. Under these circumstances, it was de termined to leave this historical hold as one of the objects thai we hope lo visit at some future day. We could admire its exterior and position, however, without interfering with the wishes of old Caspar. The first is rude, but exceedingly quaint, and the building stands on some rocks that project from the shore, and is almost surrounded by deep water, a single, low, sandy spit, athwart which a short narrow bridge has been built, alone connecting it with the mountain. The rest of the road was immediately along the lake shore, beneath a high and frowning wall of rock ; and we had a trial of speed with the steamboat until we reached the door of the inn. As is often the case, in more important matters, the battie was not lo the strong, nor the race to the swift. The boat got in some time before us ; but being obliged to anchor, there being neither port nor quay, we got possession of the best rooms while our unknown competitors were landing. Caspar snapped his fingers, when I told him of our success, and said there was nothing like a good team, let them talk as much as Ihey would about " bnteaux-d-rapenr .'" "Napo- DENT DE MORCLES. 2S9 leon had no steamboats," said the old dragoon, triumphantiy. " Very true ; if he had known their use, his fortune might have been different." I bave nothing to say of Villeneuve, unless it be to tell you that my carriage passed the night in the tower of the church, where itwas sacrilegiously boused by the peoplfe of the stables, for the want of a more profane remise. LETTER XXVII. Road from Villeneuve. — Bex. — Dent de Morcles — du Midi, — Important Pass,— St, Maurice,— The Cretins.— Reflections,— Inhabitants of the Valais. — Curious Hermitage. — Feats of an Ancestor, — Accident by a " Sac d'eau,"— Valley of the Rhone. —Waterfall. —Martigny.— Town of Sion. Ravages of Nature. — Dreary Abodes. — ^Commencement of the Simplon, — Brig, — 'The Saltine. — Broad Vista, — Distances to places between Brig and Domo d'Ossola. My dear — , Caspar had us all paraded by daylight, and after roll-call, and a cup of cafe noir, we took up the Une of march. The road led for a few miles among meadows that are literaUy as level as a floor, the result of an alluvial formation. The vaUey at tbis point must be a league wide ; but the great altitude of the rocks that overhang it cause it to appear much narrower. The river was not yet visible. We had hamlets, and churches, and ruins, as usual, and after two hours driving we passed a bourg of some size, called Rex. Proceeding onward, the mountains gradually drew nearer to each other, thrusting up two or three of their bald summits to a giddly height, where they stand, like warders of the country, overlooking the entire flank of the advanced range of the Alps. These peaks are called Dents; and the one immediately over Rex, Le Dent de Mor cles, is the commencement of that formation, of which I have already spoken, by which the mountains of the Oberland bave 19 2aO IMPORTANT PASS. been separated from those of Mont Blanc, the two St. Ber nards, St. Gothard, Monte Rosa, and all the others on the line of Italy. Its neighbour and twin, le Dent du Midi, lies on the opposite side of the Rhone, and is a sort of outiying sentinel, detached from the body of Mont Blanc. At the distance of a mile or two from Bex, the bases of the mountain approach so near as to leave little more space than is necessary for the passage of the river. The road winds under the brow of a precipice, with barely room enough to get round the rocks. At this point there is a gate, with a few attempts at fortifications, both sides of the stream offering the same facilities for defence, and each having its arched passage. When these two gates are closed, the canton of Valais (wbich commences here) is literally under lock and key, tbere being no other entrance to it, by means of a valley, but tbis. The station is important, and as the several passes of the two St. Bernards, and of the Simplon, with indeed those of St. Gothard and the Spliigen, are more or less connected with il, a handful of well-commanded men, at this pass, would be sufficient to arrest tbe march of an army. After going through the gate, we crossed the Rhone by a bridge of a single arch, near the centre of which is a tower. Through another gate in this tower we were compelled to drive, the real entrance into the Valais being precisely at this spot. At the western end of the bridge, the two great roads of the Simplon unite ; the one which was constructed by Na poleon, sweeping along the southern shore of the lake, by Savoy, and the other being that we had just travelled. The village of St. Maurice stretches itself along the base of the mountain in a single street ; the rear walls of the houses, in many instances, being actually formed of the living rock. At this place Caspar called a hall, and we called for breakfast. After partaking of the cotelettes and tbe cafeau lait, I walked ahead with A , in order to exercise our limbs. Had we known the hideous objects that we were about to be hold, the walk, most probably, would have been postponed. The Valais has long bad a painful notoriety for a race of mt- THE CRETINS, 201 serable objects called Cretins, beings possessing the most dis- gustirg likeness lo our species, of wbich they are physical abortions, but deprived in a great degree of reason. St. Mau rice is the portion of the canton most afflicted with this cala mity. As we picked our way through tbe filth of the street (every thing like Swiss neatness being wanting here), we saw perhaps twenty of these objects basking in tbe sun, with gog gling unmeaning eyes, livid slavering lips, hideous goitres, and every other sign of physical and mental imbecility. It was like running the gauntlet of disgusts; and glad enough we were lo issue from such a scene of human misery, into the beauty of the open fields. I have called the Cretins a race; but the expression, per haps, is not rigidly true, as most of them are the offspring of ordinary parents. This infliction has been attributed to the adjoining marshes; and it is said that by sending the mothers into the mountains before the births, and by keeping the child ren there for the first few years of their lives, the evil is gra dually disappearing. I should think there must be a combi nation of causes to produce a curse like this, for olher countries are marshy, and even other portions of Switzerland, without being subject to this blight on their happiness. It is probable we were particularly unfortunate on this oc casion ; for the morning had been quite cold, and most of the Cretins had drawn themselves into the sun, wbich was now beating hot against the walls, basking in its rays being one of their principal enjoyments. Many of them are deaf and dumb, and others make sounds that are as revolting as their aspects. What would become of the soul, and of that reason of which we are so proud, did any accidental concurrence of circum stances permit the formation of a race of such beings! The perpetuation of physical and mental peculiarities cannot be doubted, and it would not be difficult to construct a genealogy for some of the equivocal animals of Africa, through the theo ries to which such premises give rise. Although the con nexion between the material and immaterial is so fearfuUy in timate in our organization, these very creatures prove that 111 ' 202 INHABITANTS OF THE VALAIS. partial separations do occur ; and why may not nature, weary with fruitless efforts, in the end decree a final divorce? In creating man in his own image, God endowed him with a portion of his own high intelligence, but not with his outward form. He is purely a Spirit, and not a body of matter. They who people Heaven are still nearer to him in this likeness; but there is no good reason to suppose that they possess our physical attributes. The varieties of our own animal genus sufficiently prove that the ends of Providence do not require any absolute animal identity; and the exceptions which so abundantly exist, everywhere, go to show that reason and a certain precise physical formation, at least, are not insepa rable. Picot ascribes a peculiar character to the inhabitants of this canton. " Les Valaisans," he says, " lovi de desirer d'at- tirer Vattention du motide, sontjaloux de leur obscurite, de leur ignorance et de leur pauvrete meme, qu'ils croient ne- cessaire d leur bonheur." — It might not be amiss to effect a little infusion of American blood into them, which, I think, would thoroughly eradicate the latier singularity. Poor wretches! they have not yet learned to term a lust for money, a virtue ; the desire to live' in a better house than their fellows, ambition ; overreaching a neighbour, genius ; and the rest lessness of covetous desires, energy ! Ignoble as they are, however, they braved the legions of Rome in defence of their rights ; overthrew their local tyrants with — not the energy, for that word has passed behind the counter — but with the resolution of men worthy to be free ; and they gave their powerful French invaders nine desperate trials of strength, in 1799, finally yielding to famine, when their little community, of less than 80,000 members, had scarcely food enough to keep their bodies and ignoble souls together. LTnbappy people ! — who, without the desire to be rich, and its attendant excel lencies, " energy" and " ambition," were not enabled to remain the masters of your own misery, and the arbiters of your own humble tastes ! But Napoleon caused the great road to be made through the middle of their territory; he developed the FEATS OF AN ANCESTOR, 29S capabUities of the Simplon, and, as the rich now roll by daily in their coaches, it is to be expected that better desires will be awakened in their breasts, and that they will not for ever re main in ignorance of the interesting and engrossing fact that " the age of bargaining is come." There is a very ancient and a very curious hermitage near Sl. Maurice, which stands on a narrow ledge of rock, against the face of a precipice, and where tbe eye does not readily detect the means of ascending and descending. It is inhabited, notwithstanding, and we were told that the last, or the pre sent, occupant (I have forgotten wbich), had the extraordi nary additional merit for his vocation of being blind ! After all, such a man, in such a situation, might be safer than one who had all his eyes about him. Trusting to a sense that was as good in the dark as in the light, bis occasional quetes, among the inhabitants of the nether world, in search of a cup or a rasher, would be less likely to lead lo accidents than if he threaded his way with a bolder foot. I have heard that a certain person, from whom we are both descended, and whose names we have divided very equitably between us, was blind in his old age, but that he persevered in visiting a kinsman, whose properly adjoined his own, using a footpath that obliged him lo cross a deep stream by a single .plank. As these pa triarchs lived in the last century, and had the habits of tbe period, this was a feat our industrious ancestor chose always ¦ to perform about midnight, and which he long performed in perfect safety ; whUe his cousin, on the return visits, was com peUed to make a detour of a mile or two, in order to avoid the danger, and this, too, sometimes under circumstances that rendered the achievement of an extra mile an affair of some moment. Our predecessor in the end, however, like the pitcher that goes too often to the well, lost his life in one of these midnight marches, though not at the point where danger was most lobe apprehended. A little beyond the hermitage we reached a spot that, on a small scale, resembled the desolation of Goldau. The ac cident was of very recent occurrence, and had been caused un VALLEY OF THE RHONE. by the bursting of what, in the language of the country, is called asac d'eau, one of the many dangers that always impend over a residence among the Alps. A sac d'eau is formed by a rapid thaw, and the accidental falling of a mass of ice across tbe throat of some gorge in the upper regions. The conse quence is tbe collection of a pond of water, which becoming too heavy for the dam, the whole comes down in a body into the valley. In this instance, a stripe of beautiful meadow, near half a mile in width, and extending from the base of the mountains to the Rhone, had been completely covered, to the depth of several feet, with stones that would weigh a pound or two, among which were mixed a great many rocks that might weigh tons. Although no lives were lost, this was truly a national calamity, in a country where a hundred acres of land, more or less, become an object of importance. Awoman, who related the particulars, ended by thankfully exclaiming " it was very fortunate it had not taken place in the night, or the inhabitants might bave been frightened !" There she lived , in apparent security, within a few yards of the desolation , and just as confident as if millions of cubic feet of ice did not impend over her head, constantly threatening the same danger. But tbis life of ours is little more than an affair of under writing, in which men lake risks daily, without entering into very nice calculations of the intrinsic value of the premiums they receive. The carriages, with the rest of the parly, overlook us just as we bad reached the farther side of the debris, when we all went off together, at a round trot. The length of tbe great valley is about ninety mUes ; and between the glacier of Ihe Rhone and its entrance into the lake of Geneva, there is a descent of something less than five thousand feet ; but as much the greater part of it occurs in the eastern portion of the can ton, the road was very nearly a level. There is a waterfall about halfway between St. IMauricc and Martigny, that would admirably suit a Flemish picture. It is very generally known ; but 1 think more on account of its situation near a much-frequented road, and lo this acci- TOWN OF SION. 295 dental Teniersism, than through any very extcaordiuary beauty of its own. Among the Swiss cascades, it holds but a secondary place, in my estimation. At Martigny, the vaUey inchnes to the north-east, turning al right angles to its previous direction. Mont Velan lies directiy athwart the head of the first reach, forming a noble termination, as it is seen from Vevey. The road to the Great St. Bernard diverges here to the west, whUe we bent our faces the other way, without even slopping at Martigny, which is a hamlet of no beauty whatever. A fine old ruin on a rock that overhangs il, however, is a striking object ; but our ci-devant dragoon assured us bis etape was nicely measured, and that we must push forward to Sion, or pass the night where we were. The valley of the Rhone, for a considerable distance beyond Martigny, bas the appearance of alluvion, and, most probably, was once the bed of a lake. This must bave been the case, however, in the early ages of our orb, for the place has been frequented and known nearly as long as we bave any profane accounts of the deeds of men. I was glad to get rid of the monotony of a dead level, although it was relieved by huge mountains that were rarely five miles asunder, whose spurs abounded with ruined casties, for the sight of some irregular crags, having their tops and edges fringed with the picturesque outiines of w^alls, battle ments, turrets, and towers. The Acropofis does not over hang Athens in a more kingly style, thai) these rocks frown upon the humbler town of Sion ; nor do I believe that the architecture of the former, however pure and classical, is half as picturesque as the quaint liltlenests that areperched among the crags of the latter. To heighten their beauty, tbe build ings in question are chiefly ruins, the winged race who formerly inhabited them having, most probably, become extinct. The valley is much broader at Sion than at any other point, having a breadth of not less than ten miles, and the environs are fertUe and charming. It is an ancient lowri, 295 DREARY ABODES. the bishoprick alone claiming an existence of quite twelve centuries. The Romans were here, however, long before the bishops. Tbe meetings of the local diet are held in one of the quaint-looking edifices mentioned, the highest legis lative body of the republic being, in truth, a congress of the representatives of certain dizains (thirteen in number), into which the territory is subdivided much in the same manner as the Grisons are divided into ligues. As the canton is rigidly and exclusively Catholic, the Bishop sits in the Diet, where he enjoys, in his own ecclesiastical person, the dignity and tbe vote of a dizain. But I am wandering from the narrative, and encroaching on ground it is my intention to take up more at large hereafter. We passed the night in this picturesque-looking place, among a flight of travellers, like ourselves, destined for Italy, and took our departure the next day with the appearance of the sun. The beauty and fertility of the vaUey soon vanished, tbe Rhone occasionally spreading itself, like the Rhine above the lake of Constance, in a way to destroy every vestige of cultivation. What between sacs d'eau, torrents, the river, and now and then an avalanche, it is not an easy matter to keep the plain in the condition of a garden. The mountains began to approach each olher, and to become more chill and repulsive in aspect. StiU men dwelt among their dreary solitudes, cottages and chAlets being buried in the glens, or clinging to tbe cliffs. This was more particularly the fact with the mountains of the northern range. These buildings are sombre, dun-looking abodes, perfectly harmonizing with tbe bleak character of the nature. Perhaps I began to weary a little, with the constant sight of piles of granite, heaped on each other to the skies ; perhaps tbe season had come, with its chUl influence and wintry clouds, to add to the feeling of fatigue, but the entire valley of the Rhone was less wel come to me, and the nakedness of its stern rocks had what I shall call a more unmitigated air than any others I had seen in Switzerland. The mountains seemed streaked with steri lity in a very indescribable way, while the visible altUudes, at BRIG, 297 least, were not sufficiently great to offer a redeeming gran deur. Still they are lofty, and, in any other country, would, of themselves, afford infinite satisfaction during a visit of reasonable duration. About the middle of the afternoon, the road Was seen winding up the side of a mountain that had the look of naked pastures, and a bourg appeared clustered beneath it, in tbe valley. The first was tbe commencement of the far- famed Simplon, and the last was the town that stands at its base. We reached Brig in sufficient season to have inade a relay on the mountain, but the horses necessary to reinforce the ca- "valry of Caspar were not to be had. There was no alterna tive, and we took rooms for the night, consoling ourselves with a good dinner; the etapes of the indomitable dragoon being much better adapted to his own desultory habits of eat ing and drinking, than lo those with which we bad enlisted under his orders. This agreeable duty performed, I saUied forth to reconnoitre. Brig, Brigg, or Brieg, is an inconsiderable town, that lies- directiy at the foot of the celebrated pass, though the road literally commences at a village at a little distance, called Glys. It is a stronghold of tbe Jesuits, who have a seminary here, with buUdings of more extent than beaUty. A stone that is filled with mica is used instead of slate, and the effect is lo give a singularly cold and wiritry look to the place. The peo ple call it a resemblance of silver, but it did not appear to me that the idea of silver would ever suggest itself in looking at Brig, while one is irresistibly led to think of blankets. A few black-looking ecclesiastics stalked about the place, Uke cleri cal ghosts, but apparentiy much respected and honoured. A torrent called the Saltine descends from the mountain at this point, through a long ravine, that is not, however, very frightful in appearance, being far more distinguished by its size than by any thing particularly horrible. Through this broad and retiring vista, one can see upward, as far as the gate, or to the summit of the pass. The road itself has little 2i)S THE VIESCHERHORN. to do, at first, with this ravine, though, in the end, it skirts its edge for a few miles, and finally doubles tbe upper end. So far from following it, immediately on quitiing Brig, the route diverges from it nearly al right angles, winding its way on the broad breast of the pile, through open, shrubless pastures, of which it follows such portions as most favour the ascent. Nearly five mUes of it were visible, before it became hid among the larches which grow higher against the hUls. Judging by the eye, the distance from the town to tbe head of the ravine, wbich is in truth the greatest elevation of the pass, cannot materially exceed six miles, if, indeed, it be as much, nor did the angle appear to be as great as I had expected to find it. The distance one is obliged to travel, however, is about thir teen miles, tbe difference proceeding from the sinuosities of the road. The valley of the Rhone narrows materially above Brig, and there is a fine view of a glacier of the Viescberborn, one of the peaks of the Oberland, nearly opposite the town. The elevation of this spot above the sea is about 2400 feel. The distance, by the road, to the summit of the pass, is, as I have just staled, about thirteen miles; to tbe village of Simpeln, it is eighteen; to the frontier of Italy, twenty-three; to Crevola, or the level of tbe first Italian plain, thirty-one; and lo Domo d'Ossola, the town where the day's work usually ends, four more; making the whole distance about thirty-five miles, of which, however, the last three or four are on a perfect flat. Having ascertained these facts, I returned to the inn, in order lo catch an early nap, the indefatigable Caspar having com manded the trumpet lo sound the rappel at three on the fol lowing morning. ?»!) .e,t\ LETTER XXVIII. Departure from Brig.^-Ascent of the Simplon. — Lively Toll-house Woman. — Summit of the Simplon. — Descent to the Village of Simpeln. — Character of the Northern side of the Simplon. — Exaggerated Descriptions. — Descent from Simpeln.-^The celebrated Galleries. — Peculiarities of the Simplon Road.^ — Grand Scenery. — Admirable Construction of Road. — ^Dangerous Cliffs.— Continued Descent. — Frontiers of Italy. — Populous Acclivity. — New Region, — Huge Column of Marble, — Groups in Holiday Attire, — Reach Domo d'Ossola. My dear , At tbe appointed hour we were all assembled in the kitchen of the inn, around a good fire, to enjoy the consolation of a cup of cafe noir, before commencing the day's work. This object happily achieved, we went out into the chill air of the morning, il being still so dark that it was not possible to see the length of the team. Caspar had lighted the carriage lamps, however, and, by their aid, 1 was enabled to discover that we had six horses, with an additional postUion. The fourgon was also promoted, on this occasion, to the dignity of a carriage and four. There was an air of work and prepa ration about all this, that got up the touzy-mouzy a little, and we bad hopes of quilting Switzerland with a portion of ihat high excitement with which it had been entered. This was a grateful change, for the duU aspect of the Valais had actually thrown such a cbUl about my feelings, that I really began to fear I was falling into the apathy of one who had got to be a little blase. The ascent of the Simplon properly commences at the vil lage already named, which we passed the previous evening, a mile or two before reaching Brig, but which is not used as a slopping place by those who like good quarters. We had, therefore, to ascend, in the darkness, more than half a mile, 300 ASCENT OF THE SIMPLON. by a cross road, before we felt the carriage turning into the more regular path. It does very well to talk about trotting up and down this celebrated rouji, , by way of poetical embellish ment, but our six cattie seemed very well disposed to lake the matter much more leisurely. There were reaches of the road, it is true, where tbe thing was possible, and where, indeed, il was aclually achieved by onr own team, but much the greater part of the ascent was made "on a walk. I can say littie more of the first two hours of our morning's work, than that it was a steady drag up a mountain of very even surface. I believe we passed, in the obscurity, one of the most admired parts of the Swiss section of the road, but I much doubt if there be actually any thing so delightfully horrible, as is pretended, on that side of the mountain. When the day dawned, we found ourselves on the side of a ravine, called the Ganter, and not far from a point where the road led round its head, making a complete bend. Here W and myself alighted and walked the rest of the distance to the summit, preceding the carriage the whole way, with great ease to ourselves: pretty good proof in itself that there was not much trotting. Indeed, the postUions soon after dismounted, walk ing by the side of their horses most of the time. I do not think, however, that it would be necessary to lock tbe wheels much of the way, in descending, or that it would be at all dangerous to go down the whole declivity, on this side of the mountain, on a reasonable trot. We passed a solitary tavern near the bead of tbe ravine mentioned, where some English travellers had spent the night. Not far from this inn, we went through a bit of forest, after which the road came out en corniche, along the edge of a larger and deeper ravine, or that in which the Saltine flows, and up which I had obtained the view tbe previous evening. Many writers speak of the terrific appearance of these two ravines : of trees growing nearly in a line with their sides : of their vast depth, and of the nervousness with which one gazes downwards, into the gloomy abysses. All this struck me LIVELY TOLLrHOUSE WOMAN, 301 as being singularly exaggerated. From Brig to tbe summit, I did not see a single point where there could have been any great difficulty in constructing a road, or a single spot where a man of ordinary nerves might not stand with great indif ference, on the extreme edge of the path. The mountain was on a vast scale; the road was certainly laid out with great science and method; the ravines, if not frightful, were yawning, and of great depth, and there can be no doubt that in many places, torrents, landslips, avalanches, and falling rocks may, occasionally, do much mischief. One of the latier had done material injury this very summer, but none of these dangers obtrude themselves on the eye of the traveller in ascending. Here and there, a small stone Refuge stands by the road-side, a place of shelter in the winter, and during storms : signs that the route is not without its difficulties in particular seasons. Shortiy before doubling the head of the last ravine, we got a good view into the great valley, Brig looking quite near, but dreary as ever. At the point where the road bends, the ravine terminates, and the mountain above it rises more abruptiy to a peak, crowned by a glacier. As the road here is necessa rily cut into the earth, a roof of stone has been built over il, in order to cast the avalanches into the ravine. It is a damp and disagreeable gaUery, and I should think too Ughtiy con structed to offer a sufficient resistance to any very serious faff of snow. It is fair to presume, however, that U is suited to its purposes. W and myself reached the toll-house about nine, and fuUy twenty minutes before the carriage, notwithstanding Caspar had mounted and endeavoured to raise a trot, for the last mUe or two. Our appearance alone and on foot caused some astonishment in tbe good woman who came out to greet US; nor did she seem to understand our errand, until looking down the road she saw the rest of tbe party toiling their way up. The delay gave us an opportunity to put some questions, which were readily and I thought inleUigentiy answered. She told us, among other things, that the annual repairs of the 302 SUMMIT OF THE SIMPLON. road cost 30,000 francs, and that the receipts were in common less than 25,000. When I asked ber what bad become of aU the milestones which tbe guide-books commemorate, she laughed heartily, and replied, that she " bad read of them, too, but that she had been sixteen years on the mountain, without ever having had the good fortune lo see one!" This is the way the world is quizzed by those arch rogues who live by the quUl ! This woman was as lively as the air she breathed; and several hearty jokes passed between her and the facetious Caspar, after his arrival, he proving to be an old acquaint ance. They had an amicable difference, however, as to the amount of the toll that ought to be paid for ihe fourgon, which she classed among the carriages that are suspended on springs — while the ci-devant dragoon affirmed that he had ridden on it many a league without ever suspecting there was any thing like a spring in any part of the uneasy machine. " Ask this young woman," said Caspar, pointing lo the abigail who rode by bis side, " whether she thinks it has any springs; if she says il has as much as there is in that rock, I will pay double your demand." This saUy produced a laugh between them that might have been beard, on a still day, at Brig, and in which the discomfited and jolted Lucie bore an unwilling part. A short distance from the toll-house is a cross, which marks the precise summit. At this point one is about 6600 feet above the sea, and 4000 above Brig. Not far from the cross, a hospice is constructing, for the purpose of giving travellers shelter. An old buUding of the same nature, but of very in ferior pretensions, stands in a little valley hard by, deserted and dilapidated. The latter, it would seem, was a private charily ; but the new edifice belongs to the brotherhood of Augustines of the Great Sl. Bernard, There is littie interest iu the summit of the Simplon. It has breadth and vastness; but its aspect is that of a rocky mountain pasturage. A few glaciers are in sight, but none of any particular beauty on the immediate pile. The descent EXAGGERATED DESCIUPTIONS, 30:5 to the village of Simpeln is easy, and the distance is near five miles; the whole of which may be said, virtually, to lie on Ibe summit of the passage, for, though Simpeln is six or seven hundred feet lower than the hospice, it is reached before tbe main descent commences. The village is inconsiderable, and the inn small and indifferent. Au reste, it is something lo dweU in a town that lies 6000 feet above the level of tide. At this place we saw two chamois, the first living animals of the species with which we had met. They were kept in a stable, and were sufficiently tame to be comfortable, but there was a hop-and-skiplookabout their eyes. These animals were not larger than a half-grown kid; though they appeared lo be young, and may not bave reached their full size. To sum up the detaUs of the northern side of the Simplon, I shall add that it fell materially short of tbe grand and terrific effects we anticipated from the descriptions we had not only heard, but read. There is no part of it which, as a road, pre sents either the appearance, or the reality, of the danger that you are accustomed to encounter so often in descending the mile that lies between the top of the Vision and your own lit tle village; though there is much more of it, and every thing about it is on a vastly larger scale. If you will permit your self lo imagine eight Visions piled one on the olher, in a way to reduce the inclination fully one half, and then suppose the road to wind its way, by very gradual ascents, up its capacious breast, you would get a very tolerable idea of the Swiss portion of the Simplon. What a different thing is that of Italy! — Throughout the Alps, as I bave already told you, their northern faces are much less precipitous than their southern. You are not, however, lo suppose from this fact that there is any thing beyond its poetry, in the florid accounts we have had of the effects produced, on invaders and traveUers, by glimpses obtained of the plains of Italy, from the summits of any of these passes. The upper peaks of the Alps being visible from the low country of Lom bardy, it follows that the low country of Lombardy must be 304 DESCENT FROM SIMPELN. visjible (though at a great distance and quite indistinctly) from the upper peaks of the Alps ; but no one beyond a chamois hunter or a solitary adventurer ever gets there to behold it. From, the summit of the Simplon road, I question if the small est fragment of Italy is to be seen, even in the peak of a distant rock. The mpuntains are too near and crowded to admit of glimpses beyond the limits of the particular valley, or gorge, in which the traveller may happen to be. The books not only tell us that carriages trot up the Sim plon, but some of them go so far as to add that they trot down it without locking the wheels. The prudent Caspar viewed the matter differently. While we were at breakfast, he took an occasion to let me know that the iron sabot would be good for nothing by the time we reached the frontier of Italy, if we depended on that alone, and that cheap wooden shoes were kept at the tavern for the express purpose of rendering the descent more economical. I bought one of the latter forlhw ith , and, by way of commentary on the popular account of the matter, wiU just add that when it was thrown away, it was worn as thin as the blade of a knife. Having made this very necessary provision, we left the village between twelve and one. The first mile was a complete demonstration of the diffe rence between the northern and southern faces of the Alps. Tbe mountain faUs away rapidly ; though the sharpness of the pitch is much diminished by foUowing a very circuitous and winding path. It was certainly possible to trot some of the way down even tbis declivity, by the aid of the shoe; and it is even usual in America lo descend sharper pitches, with load ed stages, without locking a wheel at aU. But you wUI re member that impeding a carriage in this manner, or impeding any thing else, is a practice almost unknown in America — ill comporting with the hurry of the national character. Some one might get ahead of the laggard who should stop to put a shoe beneath awheel! We soon reached the first of the celebrated gaUeries, which are also features of the route that, I think, are usually PECULIARITIES OF THE ROAD. 305 exaggerated. The mere effect of passing through these arti ficial caverns, amid frowning precipices and foaming torrents, and along a road that, in reality, is aS smooth and safe as a garden walk, is, beyond a doubt, both exciting and strange ; but as mere public works these galleries are neither extraor dinary nor unusual. The "Hole of Uri" is precisely the same thing, and much more ancient, though smaller. Were the rock entirely blown away, these passes would Create much less wonder and conversation, while the labour and cost would evidently have been materially increased. But you can more easUy appreciate the labour, if not the effect in a picturesque sense, by learning the dimensions. The longest of these galleries is a little more than six hundred feet, the height is about twenty, and the breadth twelve. The rock is a compact granite with few veins. The single cutting on the Erie Canal, near Lockport, as a mere pubUc work, materially surpasses all the cuttings and blastings on all the Alpine passes put together, although there are now two other roads, but little, if any, inferior to this of the Simplon.* Notwithstanding all the mistakes which have arisen from indiscriminating descriptions, poetic feeling, or popular error, no passage of the Alps can possibly be other than grand, and, at certain seasons, dangerous. Tlie magnificent nature among which the Simplon road is compelled to pass, coupled with its extent, form its principal peculiarities. There is perhaps no one insulated point on the whole route, which, taken by itself, merely as gallery, bridge, or road, is not surpassed, even iu its own way, by some similar object, in some other part of Switzerland. Thus no bridge is equal in boldness, thread like lightness, and giddy altitude, to that of the Reuss, near Ursen ; nor do I know that there is any greater cutting thaa at that point; but there is so much of this labour, and skill, and hardihood, compressed into a single route, in descending the Simplon, that while one is passing rapidly through such a ' That of the St. Gothard, which bas since been completed, makes a fourth, and that by Nice a fifth. 30fi ADMIRABLE CONSTRUCTION OF ROAD. scencj the mind, without stopping to analyze the parts, is apt to carry away an impression of an entire and undivided whole. You are kept for hours among some of the grandest objects of the sublimest scenery of Europe, if not of the world ; and few pause to detect the means that conspire to produce the im pressions that all feel. Soon after quilting the village, as has just been said, we commenced descending, by a road that made a wide sweep, and at the end of a mile or two we entered the gallery. At this point the descent became more gradual, and we trotted on, at a good pace, for some distance farther. The gorge, through which the road runs, deepened^as we proceeded, un til the cliffs impended over it, in places, and in walls that were absolutely projecting, I should think, fully a thousand feet. Here the scenery became wildly, nor to say awfully grand, andone certainty feels a strange sensation of wonder, at finding himself traveUing through such savage passes, along a road with a surface like a floor. I cannot pretend to give you a very accurate notion of dis tances, for the moments flew swiftly, and my attention was too much attracted lo the scenery, to take heed of their passage. I should say, however, it was at a point less than two leagues from the village, that we passed the portion of the road with which I was most struck, considering it merely as a work of art. At this spot, it became necessary to descend from one level of the gorge to another that lay at some distance be neath. This object the engineers had been obliged to achieve within a very short space, and over a broken and steep sur face of ragged rocks. It was done by short zig-zags, so admi rably calculated, both as to the inclination and the turns, as to enable old Caspar to wheel his four grays, on a gentie trot, through the whole descent, with as much accuracy as he, or any one else, could have wheeled a squadron of dragoons. The beauty, precision, strength, ingenuity, and judgment with which the road had been constructed among these difficulties, drew exclamations of delight from us all. DANGEROUS CLIFFS,, 30T On reaching the bottom of this descent, we crossed the stream, a torrent that was raging in a rocky dell, the whole of the way, at no great distance from us, by an admirably bold bridge, and passed beneath beetling cliffs that rendered the head dizzy to gaze at. The appearance of these cliffs in stantly explained the nature of one of the chief dangers that beset the traveller, in crossing the Alps. Without adverting lo the avalanches, in the spring and autumn, here was a long bit of the road where, at any moment, pieces of the rock, weighing from one pound lo a dozen, might fall, from a height of several hundred feet, on the head of the passenger beneath. I saw a hundred fragments that had been half detached from their native beds by the frosts, suspended in perpendicular lines nearly a thousand feet above me ; and little freshly-made piles, that bad been raked together by the workmen, lined the roadside for some distance. Occasionally, a small chip was shaken down by the passage of our own carriages, and, in one instance, a piece fell quite near tbe caleche; though it was too small to do any injury, had it even hit it. Old Caspar looked up, and shook his head, as we went beneath these sublime crags, intimating that it was fortunate for us it was not spring, which is the season of danger. Apart from the snows, the constant freezing and thawing of that period of the year detach considerable masses from the rocks themselves. Every one has a tolerably accurate notion of what it is to descend a long hill ; but aU other descents sink into insignifi cance compared to these of the Alps. We were constantly and steadily going down, literaUy, for hours; nor do I remem ber on tbe whole route, after quitiing Simpeln, a single foot of ascent. Perfectiy level ground, even, was very unfrequent, if, indeed, strictiy speaking, it occurred anywhere. As a matter of course, the glens grew deeper and deeper; and there were parts of the road that resembled yawning and frightful entrances into the very "bowels of the land." We passed a tall, quaint, deserted building of stone, seven stories in height, and a hospice, whose roof had been beaten in, most 20 "• 308 FRONTIERS OF ITALY. probably, by the snow. These were nearly all the signs of the abodes of men that relieved the savage wildness of the descent for miles, as, unlike the northern face of the mountain, there was neither pasturage nor any thing else to induce hu man beings to dwell amid these sterile crags. We drew near a small chapel, in a rock, where Caspar flourished his whip, caUingoutthetalismanic ^ord," Italic!" I pulled off my cap, in reverence ; nor do I believe one of the party passed this frontier without a throbbing of the pulses a littie quicker than common. All this was produced purely by the imagination, for there was nothing visible to denote a change of country, beyond the little chapel already named. At length, we reached a hamlet of a few houses, called Isella, where there is a custom-house and a post station. A dozen postUions, in smart new liveries, were in the road, apparentiy watching the arrival of some important personage, whom we learned was the Grand-duchess Helena. The custom-house officers were quite civU, giving us no trouble, allhough one of them took occasion to hint that afourgon ought to pay an unusually liberal fee. We had a continuation of the same scenery for some time after quilling Isella, when suddenly we burst upon a littie ver dant opening that gave us a foretaste of the peculiarities of Italy. The valley widened, and, on one side, the mountain became less abrupt, in a way to admit of cultivation, and of the abodes of men. Tbe habitable district was very limited, being no more than a sharp acclivity of some two or three thousand acres ; but it was literally teeming with the objects of a rural civUization. The whole c^^e was a leafy cloud of lively foliage, above which peeped the roofs of cottages, wherever a cottage could stand. Tall, gaunt-looking church towers rose out of this grateful forest, in such numbers as to bespeak at once the affluence of Romish worship, and the density of the population. The gUmpse was soon over; but it left a lively impression of the principal objects, as weU as of the crowded character of ordinary Italian life. VALLEY OF THE TOCCIA. 309 The mountains approached each other again, and we went rolling down a gentie descent for miles, through gorges less wild than those above, but gorges that were always imposing and savage. Here the torrent was spanned by some beautiful bridges, that were intended to receive the foot passenger, or, at the most, a packhorse. They were of hewn stone, with pointed arches, and of extreme lightness and boldness. One or two were in ruins, — a fact that bespoke their antiquity, and contributed to their interest. At length the mountains terminated, and an open space appeared, lo denote the end. A transverse vaUey spread itself athwart the jaws of the gorge, and a massive bridge was thrown across the torrent at right angles to our course. Old Caspar cracked his whip, and soon whirled us into an en tirely new region. The country was stUI Alpine, the valley into which we now entered being completely imbedded in sublime mountains; but the severity of tbe scenery unac countably disappeared, and was replaced by softer hues and a gentier nature; even the naked rocks appearing less stern and repulsive than those we had left on the banks of the Rhone. The vegetation was naturally more exuberant, and it had been less nipped by frosts; the fruits were much more generous ; and all tbe appliances of civilisation were more abundant, and, if I may so express it, more genial. The change, beyond all question, was strikingly obvious; and could these things have been seen, from any of the great pa.sses of tbe Alps, I make no doubt the foUowers of Hannibal would reaUy have raised a shout in exultation. As it was, it is to be presumed, they deferred their rejoicings until they got down to the plains, whence they have been carried back to the mountain tops, by a poetical license. As we turned out of the gorge of the Doveria, into the valley of the Toccia, the carriage passed a huge column of marble, that lay, half completed, by the side of the rock from which it had been quarried. This was a fit emblem of Italy; nor was its effect thrown away. The bridge across the torrent, 310 DO.MA D'OSSOLA. too, was in a style and on a scale to impress us favourably, and I believe we aU felt as if we had made an important step, in our approaches to a higher condition of civilization, in matters of luxury, at least, if not in matters of more general utiUty. It was Sunday, and the road was lined with peasants, in their holiday attire. The females agreeably disappointed us, a large portion being unusually pretty. Fair complexions and blue eyes were the common peculiarities, though the first seemed warmed by the heat of a powerful sun. The men were, also, reasonably good-looking, being generaUy short, but sturdy. We saw little obvious misery ; but, on the other hand, every appearance of gaiety and contentment. As we drove into the town of Domo d'Ossola, the crowds in the streets were Uke bees before a hive; and Gaspar was com pelled, literally, to walk his horses, to prevent an accident. What a change in the inn ! The rooms were vast and airy ; the bed I occupied was near seven feet square, and the at tendants were nimble and profoundly respectful: qualities, however, that, ere long, we could gladly have bargained for the probity which usually distinguishes the Swiss gar gon, however mUch he may happen to be addicted to criticisms on a traveller's French. 311 LETTER XXIX. Rumour of a Robbery on the Simplon, — Inquiries about it friiitless,— Scene of the outrage. — Shores of Lago Maggiore. — First impressions of the scene. — Delightful change of Climate. — Baveno. — The Borromean Islands. — Isola Bella. — Isola Madre. — Row down the Lake. — Leading features of the Region.— Arona. — Statue of St. Charles Borromeo, — The last of the Alps.— The Ticino, My dear , I HAD not yet lost the keen sense of pleasure produced by the consciousness of being in Italy, when we left Domo d'Ossola, with the rising of the sun, on the following morn ing. This pleasure, however, had its alloy, for there had been a robbery, and a man shot, about a fortnight before, and we were now approaching the scene of the oulrage. The rumour of this robbery first reached me at Lausanne, on my way back from Geneva, at which lime the Simplon was said to be the spot where the assassins had lain in wait for their prey . My charge being so numerous, and so perfectiy helpless, I bad not been without uneasiness on the subject, as we gra dually drew nearer lo the mountain, and I look various pri vate occasions lo question the servants of the inns on the subject. But nothing was lo be gained from them; for it was all-important to man, woman, and child, in the Valais, that the Simplon road should not lose its good name. Believing that the facts must be known at Brig, I seized a favourable moment, when a littie previous gossip had established amicable relations between the cook and myself, to interrogate that important functionary touching the circumstances. He ad- milted that something of the sort had occurred somewhere in Italy, in what kingdom he could not pretend to say; and, alluding to my using the tenn assassins, he stoutly denied S13 SCENE OF A ROBBERY. that the murderers were assassins-at aU, but, to use his own words, " merely some people* who wished to kUI the muitre de paste." I presume he inferred, as I was not a maltre de posts, this explanation would set my heart at rest. W and myself had examined our fire arms, in coming up the Simplon, and found them as unfit for service as a city watch; and, in descending the mountain, wonder and ad miration kept us all so much occupied, that I believe no one thought a moment about an incident so vulgar as a robbery. At Domo d'Ossola, the wary Caspar, who had a natural re gard for the safety of postilions, came at last at the truth, which simply amounted to the fact, that one of the corps had been shot off his horse, and the party be was driving rifled. This robbery had been committed about three weeks before, in a bit of low swampy land, at no great distance from Domo d'Ossola. There was so evident an absurdity in supposing another outrage of this nature was more likely to occur at tbe precise spot in question than at any olher, that I dismissed all uneasiness, and tbis the sooner, because the incident had stimulated the officers of justice, who would be likely, for a time at least, to hunt the offenders out of the district. Caspar viewed the matter differently, for, as we approached the suspected place, he drew himself up in tbe saddle, like a man expecting a shot. The villains had chosen their stand with judgment, the scene of the exploit being a lonely willow bottom, were there was no habitation near, and where it was not possible to see any distance, on either side. Old Caspar reconnoitred this position knowingly, as he trotted through it ; nor did he fail to urge the cattle to do their best, so long as there was any hazard of an ambush, or the possibility of being overtaken by a bullet. A lillie incident of this nature has, at least, the merit of keeping one's eyes open, after an early start, and, on me, it produced the effect of closing the organs of hearing to most Ves gens. DELIGHTFUL CHANGE OF CLIMATE. ' 313 of the tales about banditl!i, and the dangers of mountain passes, with which the ears of travellers in Italy are occa sionally beset. We got through the terrible willow swamp unscathed; and I was just felicitating Caspar on his good fortune, when we came suddenly out upon the shores of Lago Maggiore ; a scene that drove all ideas of robbers and of un pleasant rencontres from the mind. Here, every thing was warm and Italian. Though the valley of Domo d'Ossola had, in some measure, prepared us for the transition, the change was great and unexpected. We had been transferred, as it were in a minute, from a rustic and retired population, into the midst of one that had the conventional air of the world. The region was still Alpine ; but the mountains, while they formed a magnificent frame work to the picture, became accessories; leaving the lake, with its sunny reaches; its shores lined with towns, villas, hamlets, churches, castles; its banks teeming with men ; the islands ; tbe steamboats ploughing their way through water pure as air; the inns thronged with loiterers; the vineyards, and the groves of olives, as the principal features. Although there was everywhere a bustie, no one seemed toUing. The warm, genial region really appeared as if it supported all these thousands by its own spontaneous efforts ; and there was a careless indifference in the peasantry that denoted per fect security, and a firm reliance on Providence. Such were the first impressions produced by this sudden descent inlo the midst of a scene that is so truly Italian, although near the uttermost fimits of that enchanting country! The change of climate alone was such as, in general, it re quires weeks of travelling to obtain. The weather had been good since quitting Berne, a part of the first day excepted ; but there was a chilliness that constantiy proclaimed its un certainly, and occasionally a flurry of snow, or of rain, had driven through the gorges, before or behind us, which, though it was our good fortune to escape them, kept us constantly alive to the fluctuations, and to the inhospitable character, of 314 BAVENO.— ISOLA BELLA. the climate. Here, however, one felt a sense of deep se curity, and there was no apprehension of being overtaken by a premature arrival of the seasons. In this respect the autumn was like our own, though still more bland and genial. In addition to having reached the southern side of the Alps, we had descended to a level that was but sUghtly elevated above the sea, and all this had been effected in a few hours. The carriage slopped at Baveno, a vUlage that is stretched along the shore of the lake, directiy opposite the celebrated Borromean islands. Even the inn was classical in its form, and entirely different from its Swiss neighbours. The door was crowded by another group of smart postilions, in wait ing for the Grand-duchess. These rogues, one and all, pro tested that they knew nothing of any robbery. We breakfasted ; and, leaving orders for Caspar to follow, took a boat for Isola .Bella. This island has been foo often described lo require a detailed account of its singularities; for, judged by the laws of a severe taste, the vast expenditure that bas been made on il, has resulted rather in oddities than in beauty. There is a large house, which the Italians call a palace; it is constructed in the usual mixed style of magni ficence and meanness that marks most of the private archi tecture of the country, which is usually fine in its forms and proportions, but, the carvings in stone excepted, deficient in the detaUs. There is also a garden laid out in a succes sion of terraces, in the form of a pyramid, that is adapted rather lo surprise and amuse, than to win upon tbe taste or the affections. A great deal of money has been expended, and it is said that there is a very rare and precious collection of plants; but the whole thing struck me as singularly mis placed, amid the scenery of the mountains. The appearance of these islands, seen from the shore, cannot well be other than pretty; but, after the first feeling of novelty subsides, I should think any one would prefer to see a rustic church, a ruin, or a quaint old castle on this island, than to see the la boured invention of the Borromei. ,\n island, in the im- ISOLA MADRE. :M5 mediate vicinity of Isola Bella, is completely covered by a hamlet of fishermen, and really I think it a much more plea sant object than its neighbour. Some admire the contrast between tbe two ; but it struck me as being too glaring and extravagant : like that of seeing a peasant in a full-dressed circle, or a courtier, in his bag and sword, dancing on a vil lage green. Isola. Madre stands a littie aloof, and, with its swell of land, natural aspect, and solitary villa, is much better suited to the landscape«it embeUishes, than its compelUor of Ihe palace and terraces. StiU, there is something so unusual and elaborate in the latter, that it serves very well to amuse ti. . traveller for an hour or two, and may even give pleasure for a longer period to those who, feeling a deep reverence for money, look upon all its capricious creations with profound veneration. We were shown through the bouse, and found some of the grottos grateful retreats even on the 13lh of October. The King of Sardinia had just left the place, to which he had made a visit of two or three days. The row was a pleasing exchange from the monotony of the carriage. We did not return to the innf but, to prolong the pleasure, puUed down the lake a mUe or two, where we landed ; the road literally following the margin of the water for the rest of the day. A party of dark, sunny-looking ur chins were lying in wait, to tempt us to part with a franc or two, in exchange for some grapes and other fruits, which, as usual, were transferred to our pockets and reticules, at prices exceeding some three or four times their real value. I cannot give you the details of the rest of this day's drive at length, for one of the principal characteristics of an Italian landscape is tbe multiplicity of its objects. You wUl, how ever, form some idea of the region that we had reached, from a few of its leading features. The lake is irregular, with countiess bays and promontories, and many windings. Its length is not much less than forty miles, and its width varies 316 ARONA.— STATUE OF ST. CHARLES, from four to six. The immediate shores are not so precipi tous as those of the finer of the Swiss waters; but they are uniformly bold, and there are everywhere noble backgrounds of Alps. The strand admits of room for the highway, and, here and there, a vUlage, or a small town, is crowded be tween the first terrace of the ascents and the water. In what ever direction the eye was turned, it rested on villas, buried among fruit trees; casties, or convents, on head-lands, or heights ; the buUdings of tgwns clustered together, so as to resemble vast edifices ; villages without nuipber, while nearly the whole of tbe immediate shore wore the air of a hamlet. The grouping and separate appearance of the minor objects, moreover, were strikingly picturesque. Fishermen anchored on their grounds, or gliding athwart the glassy lake, with all their appliances disposed as one would introduce them into a picture; boats beached in beautiful disorder on the sands; with the rich colours of flaring female attire mixed up with, and throwing a warmth around, all. There was not so much a glow upon the landscape as a dreamy, warm mistiness, which softened the outlines, and threw back the chiselled neaks into distance. JL About the middle of the afternoon, we alighted, and as cended the hUl by a convenient road, to a sort of table land, which, near its lower end, stretches along the western shore of the lake. This is the hereditary property of the family of Borromeo, tbe lillie town of Arona, the birth-place of St. Charles of that name, being beautifully situated beneath a promontory, a mile or two farther down the road. On this table-land or terrace has been erected a statue of the saint, representing him in the robes of a cardinal. Like the Isola Bella of the same family, there is more to surprise than to please, in this huge conceit. I do not know the entire height of the statue and pedestal, but I should think that both to gether exceed one hundred feet. The statue alone is said to be seventy feet high. I mounted by a long ladder to the top of the pedestal, and ascertained that the statue was made of THE TICINO.— LOMBARDY, S17 sheet copper, and then descended, having no ambUion to say that I had stood in a nose, and gazed at a landscape through the eyes of San Carlo. It is possible, however, literally lo perform the latter feat, a ladder being provided within the statue for the especial service of all who have such cockney propensities. The view from the terrace, or table-land, on which this statue stands, was commanding ; and, in addition lo the objects which your own imagination by this time ought lo enable you to supply, it differed from most of the scenery of the Swiss lakes, in the overflowing affluence of its artificial parts. The road continued to follow the shore of the lake, and the hUIs imperceptibly melted away into the plain, until they were gradually left behind us; the last of the Alps! Justaldusk, we drove up to the banks of the river that forms the outiet of Lago Maggiore, which was flowing through a perfectiy level country. A town was on the opposite shore, and a boat soon appeared to receive us. The carriages were driven in, and we slowly crossed the stream, which was the Ticino, a tribu tary of the Po. The town is named Sesto Calende. We now quitted Piedmont, and entered the dominions of the Emperor of Austria, in bis kingdom of Lombardy. Here we bad some littie trouble with the baggage, but not more, probably, than is rendered necessary by the management of the interests of a large and important state. SIS LETTER' XXX. The Plain of Lombardy. — Rich Cultivation, -^The Chureh-towers. — The Populace, — Approach to Milan,- — Impressions on entering the Town. — The last Supper, by Leonardo da. Vinci. — The Cathedral of Milan, — Style of the building.-^Its numerous Pinnacles and Statues, — Its great dimensions, — Inferiority of America in its cities, — View from the roof of the Duomo of Milan. — Adieu to Helvetia, DiEAR , We were off before the~dawn; but the light soon enabled us to perceive that we had taken leave of our grand nature, and that we were now in a country, that was beau, in the sense of the Frenchman, without being pittoresque. This was the commencement of the plain of Lombardy, which stretches from the Alps to the Apennines, from the mountains of Genoa lo "the marshes of the Adriatic. In a north and south direction, this plain has an average length of about one hundred and fifty miles ; nor is its breath materially less. It gradually faUs away towards the Adriatic, inlo which it pours all its waters: but the descent is so very imperceptible, and really is so small, that it is entirely lost to the eye of the traveUer. We were now on its verge; but an hour sufficed to bury us as effectuaUy among its wines and fruits trees, so far as the prospect was concerned, as if we had already reached its centre. The cultivation was like that of a garden; and the fields were still veiled with vines and trees in a way to put views quite out of the question. The soil, a light sandy loam, is ge nerous and warm; and vegetables, and even grain, are very commonly grown in the midst of all this foliage. The road wasneariy a continued hamlet, and tall, gaunt, square church- towers rose out of the interminable but low forest, literallv in MILAN. 31!) scores, and as rigid, upright, lank, and precise, as an old- school New England parson. W was tickled with this conceit, — some one remarking that the lowers resembled so many dogmatical sentinels, stretching up their starched necks to overlook their flocks. Many of them were built of bricks, stuccoed. But nearly every dwelling we now met was covered with a coarse white plaster. The population began rapidly to dwindle in size, and to have less of the bright, animated look which had so much pleased us in Piedmont. The men, in general, were both slight and short; and we thought that while the poor looked very poor, they did not appear to endure much real suffering. We were not greatiy annoyed by beggars; the peasants seem ing to be occupied and earnest; — much more so, indeed, than we had been taught to expect. After stopping at a viUage to breakfast, we pushed forward for Milan. Tbe country is so very low that we did not get the smaUest evidence of our near approach lo a capital until we were within a mile or two of it, when the pinnacles of the cathedral thrust their while fretwork above the carpet of leaves. An open space Uke a glacis, a half-finished arch at the termination of the Simplon road, the walls, and the gate, announced the city. Milan struck us as a neat and reasonably busy town, with a population of very decent outward appearance, but as less gay and conventional 4han we expected to find it. The houses were rather low, a fault that invariably detracts from the magnificence of a town, impressing it with a provincial look. StiU the air of the place was highly respectable, and it seemed to contain many excellent private residences. These were the impressions made on entering. The hotels were crowded, and it was with great diffieultjr that we got the rooms necessary to our accomodation, at a second-rate tavern, where we consoled ourselves, with baths and rest, after a six days' march. The next day we commenced the regular duties of tra- 320 THE LAST SUPPER, BY LEONARDO. vellers, much refreshed and with renewed courage. Our first object was the celebrated picture of the Last Supper, by Leonardo da Vinci. You doubtiess know that it is paint ed alfresco,^ on the wall of the refectory of a convent. The colours are a good deal faded, and the picture does not appear to have been sufficiently cared for; but there were no signs about it of its having received the injuries mention- ned by Eustace, who accuses the French of having fired bullets at the different figures. There was a spot or two in the wall, beneath the picture, that had been replastered, and the laquais de place affirmed that a few bullets had actually been discharged at these spots. He was a decided Bonapartist, however, and probably thought that by assigning particular ]places lo the buUets in question, be effectually got rid of the charge of abusing the work of Leonardo. I do not believe that the picture ever received the injuries named. Of the beauties of this work it is unnecessary to say any thing, for the design and general character are well known, and the nicer merits that usually distinguish an original, happen, in this instance, to be much impaired by neglect and time. With a view to preserve a fac simile, a magnificent copy was making, in the same room, and the vividness of its colours served to render those of the great master even duller than they would otherwise have appeared. From this picture we proceeded to tbe cathedral. My profound reverence for edifices of this kind bad induced me lo pay two or three stolen visits, the previous afternoon and evening; and one, also, by moonlight, had given me a fore taste of the effects of this unrivalled structure. I say unri valled, for it stands absolutely alone in its own peculiar style. The cathedral of Milan is yet unfinished. It was com menced in 1386, and it has consequentiy been nearly five * Fresco paintings are made by using water-colours on green mortar. As the first touch of the pencil must remain, it is a style of art that requires great readiness, with a perfect knowledge of drawing, to succeed. Of course the design is sketched and matured before the plaster is laid. THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN, 321 hundred years beneath the hammer and chisel ! The ma terial is a white marble, and the style a mixed gothic. When we recollect the period in which the edifice was commenced, it is fair to presume that the original designs have not been rigidly respected, for the best and purest specimens of the gothic structures of Europe date from about the fourteenth century, although the most extraordinary must be referred to an earlier period. This cathedral has strictiy a Grecian front, engrafted on a gothic fabric. But the gothic itself is so unlike any thing else we had been accustomed to see, that we were less unplea santly struck with this discrepancy than we could have sup posed. The change of style has probably been an after thought. The principal peculiarity of the edifice, however, is the great number of its pinnacles, which rise up, like in verted stalactites, from every part of its summit. These pinnacles give the building a mosque-like and imaginative air ; though its Christian character is preserved by placing the statue of some orthodox saint on each of them. Incredible tales are told of the number of statues that are placed on and about the building, which some accounts pretend amounts lo many thousands. The statues impair the fretted appearance of the style less than might be supposed, tbe proportions being loo well maintained lo permit them to become more than modest accessories. As a general effect, they rather add to, than detract from, the Iracery and net-work look which so peculiarly belong to the order. Most of the pinnacles have been run up since the reign of Napoleon commenced, and they have a fresh and unsullied look, compared to that of the older parts of the buUding; W , not unaptly, likening the whole to the appearance of tbe Alps, with their gray bases of granite, and their white summits of snow. Of the size of this cathedral I shall give you an odd ac count. I have made a calculation of its cubic contents, allow ing in the best manner I could for the irregularity of its form, 21 328 INFERIORITY OF AMERICAN CITIES. and, estimating the number of churches in New York at one hundred, after computing their average dimensions, the result shows that tbe Duomo of Milan is materially larger than all the places of worship in our aspiring Manhattan put together! Its length is near five hundred feet; its breadth varies from one hundred and ninety to near three hundred ; its interior height from about eighty feet (in the chapels) to two hundred and fifty beneath the cupola; and the statue of the Virgin, which crowns the principal pinnacle, is near four hundred feet from the ground. I have made this comparison, as the best means I know of, to arouse you from your American compla cency on the subject of the use of the adjectives, "grand," ?'majestic," "elegant," and "splendid," in connexion with our architecture. The latter word, in particular, is coming to be used like a household term ; whUe there is not, probably, a single work of art, from Georgia to Maine, to which it can, with propriety, be applied. I do not know a single edifice in the Union that can be considered more than third rate, by its size ahd ornaments; nor more than one or two that ought to be ranked even so high. We have succeeded better in forms, of which we have a few imitations that are as faultless as any you wUl meet with here. In bamlets, in vUlages, and even in country towns, we may possibly surpass Europe, as a whole.^ but when it comes to capitals, and the use of the adjectives I have just quoted, il maybe weU to remember that there is no city in the republic that has not decidedly the air and the ha bits of a provincial town; and this too, usually, without pos sessing the works of art that are quite commonly found in this hemisphere, even in places of that rank, or a single public building to which the term magnificent can, with any fitness, be adjudged. We ascended to tbe roof of the Duomo, which resembled a bit of table-land, on a small mountain. The view was li mited, in aU directions but one, by an horizon like that of the ocean, — the eye ranging over a vast extent of cultivated plain, covered, as usual, with fruit trees, out of which rose the gaunt ADIEU TO HELVETIA. 323 lowers of churches, stretching up their necks like so many watchful cameleopards. But the hoary Alps were ranged along the northern margin of the landscape, looking warm and cheerful. Monte Rosa was the most conspicuous, affording us, for the first time, a distinct view of its sublime propor tions. The glaciers were brUliant, but dreamy, no longer turning their faces coldly on us. Even the eternal snows appeared to have received a milder lint from the genial cli mate of Italy. I bent my eyes, in vain, athwart the endless plain to the south, in the hope of catching some dim outline of the Apen nines. If they are ever visible from MUan, the haze of the atmosphere prevented their being seen on this occasion. But, though the organs of sight were so limited, the spirit was free. I was transported across tbe seemingly boundless plain, inlo lower Italy, which is in fact the Italy we love, and began to enjoy, in anticipation, the pleasuresof a residence in a country that, unlike its sterner neighbour, gradually wins upon the feelings, until it becomes the object of our dearest affections. Adieu, then, to Helvetia, with hercaverns, her fields of eternal ice, her cascades, her green and broad mountain sides, ber pastoral abodes, ber winding and rocky paths, her aerial bridges, ber infernal glens, ber forests of dark larches, and her congress of hoary mountain peaks ; and away for the glowing vales and purple rocks of Parthenope ! THE END. YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 01283 2052