From Basle I proceeded to Berne, a city with a population of twenty thousand, beautifully situated and much resorted to during the summer by strangers. The scenery of this part of Switzerland is not so grand and majestic as the mountain views, but the country is undulating and productive. The varied costumes of the peasantry in the different Swiss cantons (of which there are twenty-four comprising the Republic), strike the eye of the stranger as being singular and beautiful.

From Berne I took diligence for Friburg, which, in addition to its magnificent and lofty situation, is celebrated for its suspension iron bridges; the length of the two over which our diligence passed is nine hundred and three feet, their height one hundred and sixty-three feet above the river. It appears frightful in the extreme the first time you pass the bridge, but it is considered perfectly safe. The other bridge, over which I passed subsequently, while examining the work, is seven hundred feet long and two hundred and eighty-five feet above the valley over which it is suspended. During heavy gales they are said to vibrate considerably.

The route from Friburg to Vevay, situated upon the lake of Geneva, is very beautiful, passing through immense vineyards loaded with fruit, and the peasantry, male and female, are busily employed in gathering and pressing the juice of the grape; nothing can exceed the beauty of the snow-capped mountains in the distance, while the blue and limpid Lake of Geneva bathes the shore of Vevay. From Vevay I took the steamer on the lake, visiting Lausanne, a city of some importance, and beautifully situated on an eminence commanding extensive views of the country around. I next took the steamer and traversed the extent of the lake to Geneva, which is the principal and largest city in Switzerland. Here are generally to be found strangers from all quarters, good hotels, reading rooms, and all the comforts and necessaries of life for those who choose to make it a residence. It is the resort of many wealthy English. The situation upon the lake at the outlet—the beautiful and magnificent scenery—its public promenades—its interesting suburbs and adjacent country—altogether lend many charms to Geneva for a permanent residence.

About six miles from Geneva is the château and villa of Voltaire, to which most strangers pay a visit. Here are shown many relics—his garments, cane, books, correspondence, &c.; also the room in which he lodged, which contains his bed, furniture, pictures, &c. Among the latter I discovered a portrait of Dr. Franklin, who once paid Voltaire a visit.

On quitting Geneva for Milan, to pass over the Simplon, which traverses the Alps, ten thousand feet above the level of the sea, I was compelled to take the diligence, the only conveyance which left, just towards night, and on entering Savoy, in the middle of the night, was obliged to submit to the abominable practice of police authority, the examination of luggage and delivery of passport, and in the entire route to Milan had my baggage examined four times. After riding all night and the following day, passing through the most wild and romantic scenery imaginable, with occasional cascades from the mountains, we arrived at a little village called Brieg. In order to appropriate an entire day to the passage of the Simplon, travellers usually sleep at Brieg and set out with the dawn next morning. The journey across the mountain is about forty miles, and generally occupies about twelve hours. We started at three o’clock in the morning in the ascent. The weather, which in the valley was warm and agreeable, began to change sensibly; as we proceeded the cold increased; finally we found snow, and much to my surprise, at length were compelled to leave the diligence and take wooden sledges, upon which was lashed the luggage, while the passengers rode upon rudely constructed sledges with wooden runners. We soon found the cold intense, and the snow from two to four feet deep. Fortunately for me, when we arrived at the foot of the mountain, we were told that the mountain was almost impassable; the passengers had been detained five days, the roads being blocked up, a thing almost unprecedented even on the Simplon in the month of October. We provided ourselves with the requisite comforts and clothing for the passage. This passage of the Alps, planned by Napoleon in 1801, was finished in 1805 by the governments of France and Italy. Its breadth is twenty feet; the number of the bridges thrown across the rocks is fifty, and the number of grottoes hewn through the solid rocks is six. There are placed several rude buildings of stone, at different intervals, for the shelter of the traveller when threatened by the avalanches, with the marks “Refuge” No. 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. On the summit of the pass stands the new hospice, a good establishment for the passengers, begun by Napoleon, but only recently completed. It is occupied by the hospitable monks of St. Bernard, who showed us their famous dogs for dragging benighted travellers out of the snow. At the point where vegetation ceases, and where the avalanche has swept everything before it, is a dreary tunnel about one hundred and fifty feet long, through which we passed, which is cut through the rock over which the avalanches tumble. After emerging you pass along the brink of a precipice of immense depth. We started early in order to avoid the avalanches which commence about mid-day. We were forced in some places to pass over beds of snow twenty feet deep, the avalanches having blocked up the road. A large number of the hardy pioneers of the mountain were employed with their shovels in clearing the way. At about three P.M. we arrived over the side of the mountain at the little village of Simplon, where we were able to take wagons, as the snow was melting fast, and when we had got down in the valley, or gorge of the rocks, another grand scene presented itself. The snow melting rapidly formed cascades in every direction, which were coursing down the ragged and perpendicular rocks, sometimes exhibiting all the colors of the rainbow, and at others foaming in torrents. Altogether the passage of the Simplon, under the circumstances in which I crossed it, is one of the most wild, frightful, and yet grand and majestic scenes I have witnessed. In the early part of the evening we found ourselves at Domo d’Osola, where we lodged, and the next day went to Bavano, upon the Lago Maggiore, where we stopped to visit the beautiful and enchanting islands called Isola Bella and Isola Madre, which I will speak of in my next.

XXIII.

Trieste, Austria, Nov. 16, 1841.

In my last communication from Milan, I promised to speak of the charming lake called in Italian Lago Maggiore, and of the enchanting islands, Isola Madre and Isola Bella. The lake is about forty or fifty miles in length, and from four to six in breadth. Its shores are lined with forest trees, olives, and vineyards, and here and there are scattered villages and hamlets, some of which are remarkable for elegance of construction. The two islands above named contain palaces and gardens belonging to the family of San Carlo Boromeo. On visiting the Isola Madre, which is about one and a half miles from the shore, we were delighted on seeing, on the south side, four gardens, or rather terraces, rising one above the other, embellished with luxuriant flowers, shrubs, forest trees, all the tropical fruits, &c., in great abundance, and crowned with a palace. But we were still more gratified on visiting Isola Bella, about a mile distant, which is certainly the most remarkable work of the kind I ever saw—it being a small island, occupied entirely with gardens and the palace. It is said a great proportion of the earth was originally carried there. The southern exposure consists of eight terraces, rising one above the other, carpeted with flowers, oranges, lemons, and other fruits in profusion, and adorned with an immense number of statues. This great work is supported by stone arches, which, together with the basement or lower story of an immense palace, front a series of grottoes tastefully fitted up, and for a summer abode delightful. The palace in itself is magnificent, and loaded with all the valuables that wealth can bestow, in sculpture, paintings, &c. The king of Sardinia has passed some time at this agreeable spot. What is most remarkable is in the position of the island, for during the winter, while the mountains in the vicinity are covered with snow, here may be found all the tropical fruits and rare plants from all parts of the world.

After leaving Lago Maggiore, we proceeded by diligence to Milan, which is the capital of Lombardy, and the largest city in northern Italy, its population being one hundred and fifty thousand. There are many attractions in it calculated to detain a traveller, among the principal of which is the Duomo, or cathedral, which is the largest in Italy, excepting St. Peter’s at Rome. It is four hundred and forty-nine feet long, two hundred and seventy-five broad, and the height two hundred and thirty-six feet to the top of the cupola. It is divided into five parts by one hundred and sixty columns of marble, and paved with the same material. Under the cathedral is a sumptuously decorated chapel, which was open while I was there, it being an anniversary, and thousands during the day passed into the subterranean chapel to see the remains of San Carlo Boromeo, which are inclosed in a crystal sarcophagus, adorned with gold and silver gilt. His figure is encased with superb robes, while his crosier and mitre rest by his side. His countenance, with the exception of the nose, is pretty well preserved. The interior of the chapel is also covered with marble, and gold and silver gilding, extremely rich. In order to appreciate this immense Gothic edifice, it is necessary to mount to the top of the cathedral, four hundred and sixty-eight steps, where you can view the spires, turrets, and exterior decorations, in white marble.

The triumphal arch of Napoleon, at the termination of the grand Simplon road, is another great ornament to Milan. It is an immense work, and crowned with a car, bearing the figure of Victory, drawn by six colossal horses in bronze; there are also four other horses, of the same material, standing on the four corners.