The keeper of the inn was the guide of the pass. I asked him his terms for his mules and services, and found that he asked double the ordinary prices. Upon expostulating with him he informed me that no traveller had yet passed; that the avalanches were yet unmelted and to be feared. I thought it was all a ruse, but he said he would prefer not to go. I could not retrace my steps; I was well provided with garments, having an Algerine cloak with a hood attached to protect the head, a mantle in addition, with shoes and overshoes. I knew I could not suffer from cold, and I accepted his terms, to leave the following morning with two mules for myself and baggage, and two guides. To my surprise I found all he had said was true. We passed over immense avalanches of snow in the gorges and passages, where it was necessary for the two guides to take one mule at a time, one at the head and the other at the side, to keep me mounted.
We arrived safely at the Convent or Hospice, and I was cordially received by the fraternity and showed the interior of the immense building with over one hundred rooms; its chapel or church is decorated with paintings, marble altars, crucifixes, &c., and would compare with many small churches in Italy. Here is also the monument of Gen. Dessaix, Napoleon’s bosom friend, who fell at the battle of Marengo. The Emperor contributed largely to the funds of the establishment. I saw that famous breed of dogs so well known, and also a building where are the bones and dried mummies of those who die in the convent or are found in the snow. The monks are only thirteen in number, and usually change every three years, as the temperature is found too bracing. They informed me that all my guide had said was true; that I was the first traveller of the season; I was quite at home among them, as they had many inquiries to make about Rome and Palestine; and although dinner was served early on my behalf, our sitting was prolonged until I was admonished by my guides it was time to depart in order to arrive at the village at the foot of the mountain before nightfall. There I procured a char-à-banc and came to St. Maurice and Martigny, and soon embarked by steamer upon the beautiful Lake of Geneva, passing Vevay, Lausanne, and other towns with all their souvenirs of a former visit during the season of the vintage. The day was warm and beautiful, and the lake placid, and I was quite satisfied having made the pass of the mountains which loomed up in the distance, the peak eternally covered with snow, without having suffered accident or inconvenience.
I find this beautiful town, Geneva, less active than when I last visited it, as the distracted state of affairs on the Continent has operated seriously against the branch of commerce in which it chiefly engaged—the manufacture of jewelry. There are now five thousand workmen without their regular employment, and the authorities, to keep them from open rebellion, are levelling a rampart and filling up the fosses, which gives employ to a vast number at a remuneration of only one and a half francs, or thirty cents per day, barely sufficient to keep body and soul together.
XL.
Munich, Bavaria, 1848.
When I wrote you last I was on the eve of departure for Neufchatel, which is a quiet town, and beautifully situated upon the lake which bears the same name. The rich and varied mountain scenery, the still and placid waters of the lake, the high state of culture of the grape and other products, with the apparent comfort surrounding the Swiss cottages, made it an agreeable trip. Here too they had had their Revolution, and the royalist party, which was under the protection of the King of Prussia, was obliged to give way to the Republican Swiss.
Lucerne offers but few attractions in itself, but an excursion by steamer to the head of the lake, with its ever-varying scenery and localities full of historical reminiscences, gives it additional interest. The chapel erected to the memory of William Tell is seen under the precipice from which he leaped when pursued by his oppressors; also the Grotto of the Swiss conspirators, where they concealed themselves when striving for the redemption of their country. Mount Riga, too, rises in all his majesty in the distance, and is much visited in ordinary seasons by travellers, but in these revolutionary times I find myself quite alone. The landlords complain, and say their callings are gone, for this year at least.
At the beautiful town of Zurich I made an agreeable sojourn, and met with real Swiss hospitality from friends whose acquaintance I had made en voyage. The society is good here, and gave me an opportunity of seeing much of the manners and customs in private life. The hotels are excellent; the excursions upon the lake by steamer, most agreeable. The town is pleasantly situated upon both sides of the stream where the lake discharges itself, and is connected by bridges, and reminds me of Geneva.
From Zurich, I took a northerly direction to Schaffhausen, to see the Cataract of the Rhine, which is well worth a visit; but the fall of a river of only eighty feet, although grand and beautiful, and highly extolled by continental tourists, does not so particularly interest an American who has visited the majestic and indescribable falls of Niagara. This reminds me of an anecdote related of a controversy between an American and an Italian, relative to the beauties and remarkable curiosities of the two countries. The Italian thought he had the advantage, particularly in describing the volcano, and the eruptions of Mount Vesuvius; but the American replied, “Yes, all very true; and we have Niagara, which can drown Vesuvius in less than five minutes.”
From Schaffhausen, the steamer takes one along the upper Rhine, which is low and flat in many places, and not remarkable for its beauty. We then entered Lake Constance, which is the largest sheet of water in Switzerland, touching at different points until our arrival at Constance, which has nothing particular to offer for the traveller in the way of sights.