Letters from Switzerland

by Samuel Irenæus Prime

“In what part of England do you reside, Sir?”

I am not an Englishman, Madam.

Lady.—“Bless me, and of what country are you, pray?”

I am an American.

Lady.—“O you are, are you? Well, I would not have thought it. Would it be an indiscretion for me to ask you what is your name, Sir?”

I gave her my name of course, but she was not satisfied. “Will you,” said she, “have the goodness to give me your name in writing?”

I handed her my card, for which she thanked me, and then added, “I know that you are making notes, and will write a book, and I shall hear of you, &c.,” and so she chatted on, amusing me not a little with her loquacity.

We returned to Interlachen, and here a German lady who was travelling with her family, begged me to allow her son, a student of Heidelberg, to join my party, to make an excursion of a few days, and meet her at Geneva. To this I assented, as it would increase our number to four, and be quite agreeable. With this escort of young men, two Germans and one American, I set off at daylight in the morning, to make the Gemmi Pass. Along the shores of Lake Thun and by the castles of Wimmis and of Spietz, we entered the beautiful vale of Frutigen, where the shepherds and flocks, with their crooks and their dogs, gave us a sweet picture of pastoral life. At a little tavern at which we halted for lunch, I found the following Creed, framed and hung up in the dining-room. It was in French.

“I believe in the Swiss country, the brave mother of brave men, and in Freedom only begotten daughter of Helvetia, conceived in Grutli, by the patriot in 1308 who suffered under the aristocrats and priests, was crucified for many centuries, died and was buried in 1814; after sixteen years was again raised from the dead, came back into the bosom of true patriots, from hence she shall come to judge all the wicked. I believe in the human spirit which was delivered from ignorance by knowledge and raised by Education. I believe in a holy general brotherhood of the oppressed in Spain, Portugal, Poland and Italy, the communion of all patriots, the destruction of all tariffs, and the life everlasting of republics, Amen.”

This is scarcely better than blasphemy; and it is probably one of the formulas of faith on which the Continental conspiracies are formed. On and up, the road led us to some beautiful falls of water, and between perpendicular masses of rock that stood as if split asunder to give us a passage through. We reached Kanderstey in the middle of the day, and met parties returning from the Gemmi, who advised us against going on, as there was every prospect of a coming storm. We were determined however to press forward. I got a mule and a guide, and the young men were ready to walk. We set off in good spirits, but as soon as we struck into the defile which led up the hill, the mists began to thicken around us, and it was impossible to call it any thing but rain. Three hours of steady climbing brought us to the wretched inn of Schwarenbach, which Werner makes the scene of a fearful tale of blood. We were wet and cold, but found no fire, and the set of men and women inside were too dirty and savage to tempt us to spend the night with them, as we were now heartily disposed to do, if the quarters had been safe. I preferred to run the risk of getting over the mountain to staying here. This was the unanimous vote, and again we plunged into the storm. Dreary and dismal was the way, along by the side of the Lake; the Dauben See, and in the midst of broken masses of stone, strewed in wild disorder. We were near the summit when the rain became snow and hail, and the winds swept fearfully over us, so that I could not sit upon my mule. I had scarcely dismounted, before he slipped on a ledge and fell; I might have broken my neck had I fallen with him. No signs of a human habitation are on this lonely height. And if there were, we could not find them in this driving storm. There are no monks to come with their dogs to look us up, if we lose the way. We must go over and down on the other side, or perish. To return is impossible. Among the scattered fragments of rocks, no path was to be seen; and we frequently feared that we had lost our way. I followed the guide to the brink of a precipice two thousand feet deep, and perpendicular. Down the face of this solid rock leads the most wonderful of all the pathways in Switzerland. So narrow as just to allow two mules to pass as they meet, the zigzag path is cut out of the solid rock, and covered with earth and stones to prevent our feet from slipping. The mule, by a wonderful instinct, walks upon the extreme outer verge, lest in making the sudden turn his load should strike the rock and tumble him off.