They are gone. The rose-tints have faded from the loftiest summit of snow, and the sun has gone down to rise on those dearer to me than his light, in a distant land.
CHAPTER III.
THE MOUNTAIN TOPS.
Climbing the Utleberg—Fat woman on a donkey—First Alpine view—The valley, lake and hills—Haunts of Lavater, Zimmerman, Klopstock, Gessner—The work of Escher—Coming Down—Baur Hotel—Lake Zurich—Lake Zug—Golda—Land-side—Ruin—Ascent of the Rigi—The best route—Chapels by the way—Mary of the Snow—Convent and monks—The Summit—The Company—Change of Temperature—Sunset—Supper—Night—Sunrise—Glory of the view—Getting down again—Fat man done up.
August 19.
Rankin challenged me this morning to walk to the heights of Utleberg, on the Albis ridge, to the west of Zurich. The Utleberg is only three thousand feet high! and that is a small matter in Switzerland. After a cup of coffee we set off at eight in the morning, and without guide or mules we wandered out of the town, across the river, and through beautiful vineyards, with luxuriant grapes, not ripe enough to be tempting. We climbed along up the hill-side. Other parties were on their way, some German, some French, some English, none American but ourselves. At the foot of the hill we met a flock of milk white goats, which their owner was driving down from the mountains to sell in town; beautiful creatures; for the first, we learned that beauty could be affirmed of a goat. Here the lame and the lazy supplied themselves with mules, and a comical figure of a fat German lady on a miserable little donkey, will be an amusing memory for many a day. When she was half way up the mountain she looked so jaded with the jerking, that we thought she would have suffered less if she had carried the donkey. We cut stout sticks in the forest, and pushed on, stopping now and then to pick flowers, or to examine a leech or a lizard, in the pools and streams by the side of the path, resting when tired, but pressing onward and upward, steadily and slowly; encouraged often by the splendor of the scene below, as we caught it from some opening in the woods, and feeling that we had the day before us and nothing else to do. The ascent became steeper as we pressed along, and it doubtless seemed steeper to us the more we were wearied with the way, but we made it in less than two hours, winding around the mighty rock that caps the apex, and entered the house of refreshment before we looked off into the world below.
I had not felt myself in Switzerland till on this summit, we saw for the first time a real Alpine view. It has points of view peculiar to itself, nationally characteristic; there is nothing got up on the same scale and the same plan in any other part of God’s great world. Why it pleased him to heap these hills in such “confusion unconfused,” in this little country, we do not know, but they who would see the most remarkable of his works in mountain-building, must come here and climb up to some of the highest peaks, where they can take in at once as much of the majesty of the scene as each man’s mind can hold. Rankin and I reasoned some time on the question whether these lofty ranges were clouds in the heavens or mountains propping up the sky. Now the problem is solved. What we thought might be white clouds, are the snowy ridges of the distant hills, and the dark blue mountains are now facing us as from one height across the valley we see them without looking up.
The vale of Zurich lies at our feet. The lake for twenty-five miles, and with a breadth of not more than three, stretches itself more like a river than a lake, through the valley to the south as far as we can see; and the hills rise very gradually from the water affording the most delightful grounds for vineyards; while scores of villages, each with its church spire, are scattered on each side, and between the villages so many dwellings are seen, that the whole valley, with its dense population, seems but one great family; certainly, it is one neighborhood, where industry, religion, intelligence and happiness, ought to flourish and have their reward. Thalwyl may be seen away to the south, near to which Lavater wrote a portion of his work on Physiognomy; and still farther on is Richtensweil, where Zimmerman lived, whose work on “Solitude” celebrates the praises of this spot. So does Klopstock in his ode, and Gessner, the Swiss poet, who was born in Zurich and has a monument reared to his memory in one of its delightful promenades. There, too, is Stafa, where Goethe once resided, and Rapperschuyl, with the longest bridge in the world, it is said, four thousand eight hundred feet, or three-fourths of a mile; but I think the Cayuga bridge is longer. There lies a beautiful islet, in which Ulrich Von Hutten, the friend of Luther, found a refuge and a grave. Look away to Usnach, and you see a valley out of which the river Linth is flowing; connected with it is a remarkable story. Yesterday in the churchyard of St. Anne, we saw a massive rough stone, with a polished spot in the midst of it, on which was engraved in gilt letters, “Escher, Von der Linth,” or Escher of the Linth. The title had plainly been given him for some work connected with the Swiss river of that name. Some thirty or forty years ago the river, coming down from the glaciers, and bringing with it a vast quantity of stones and soil, had become so much obstructed, that the valley was repeatedly overflowed, terrible pestilences followed, and the inhabitants swept off in great numbers. Conrad Escher suggested to the government the idea of digging a new bed for the river, and turning its waters off into another lake, the Wallenstadt, where its deposits would be received without injury. This lake he connected with that of Zurich by a navigable canal, and so complete was the success of all his suggestions, that he is looked upon as a national benefactor. Just there, at the opening of the valley, a tablet has been placed in the solid rock, with an appropriate inscription. But that is not all. Hard by it is an institution for the education of the poor of the canton, which is called after his name; and a factory where the Linth colony are at work, who were brought here and supported while the great work was in progress on which they were employed.
Whichever way the eye turns from this point of observation, it finds something interesting or wonderful on which to rest. We are now in the morning of our tour in Switzerland, and have been assured again and again that this is mere beauty, compared with the glory that awaits us hereafter. But those mighty mountains crowned with eternal snow, and piercing the very skies with their sharp peaks, or supporting the heavens with their broad white shoulders, are certainly most majestic works of God, and what more and greater there can be, it is beyond imagination to conceive. Not many travellers climb up here. They are in such haste to see the Rigi and the Passes, and the Vale of Chamouni, that they do not give a day to Zurich, the most classic and picturesque of any of the cantons of Switzerland. An English gentleman and lady are up here with me, who have just been traversing this whole country on foot. They are full of delight with the view, though they have seen everything else that is to be seen.
The only incident to give variety to our return was losing the way, and making the walk a mile longer; but that was of small account to Swiss pedestrians, ambitious of doing great things, and making nothing of climbing a mountain, and coming down before dinner.