ourselves on a terrace overlooking the Rhine, and forming a part of the
cathedral ground. O, it was glorious to look at, Charley. There,
stretched away on the other side, were the hills of the Black Forest,
whose legends we have so often pored over. This terrace is finely-wooded
with linden and chestnut-trees. We walked back to town, and called upon
our consul, Mr. Burchardt, and found him very kind and friendly. He gave
himself up to us for the entire day, and became our guide to all the
objects of interest. He dined with us; and then we all went to his
charming country-house, about one and a half miles from town, and took
tea with his family. Our first object was the Cathedral. This is a red
sandstone church, with two steeples, and was consecrated in 1019. The
crypt, no doubt, is as ancient as this date. Here is the tomb of the
empress, wife of Rudolph of Hapsburg. Here, too, we saw the tombstone of
Erasmus, who died in 1536. In the cloisters, which are very noble, are
the monuments of OEcolampadius, Grynaeus and Myer, the reformers. This
church is Protestant. It is plain, but venerable. In the chapter-house,
which we visited, was held the Council of Basle, which lasted from 1436
to 1444. The room is just as it then appeared, and the very cushions on
the seats are still preserved. Our next visit was to the Holbein
Gallery, where the largest collection of paintings by this master is to
be seen. Here we saw the fragments of the Dance of Death, but which
some say are of an earlier date than Holbein's day. I liked his
portraits better than his other pieces. One sketch of Sir Thomas More's
family is very fine. We also saw the library, and a large collection of
Roman antiquities. The portraits are very fine at the library; and we
saw those of Euler and Bernouilli, the mathematicians. At the university
we saw the building, and received polite attentions from the librarian
and Latin professor. We also saw the professor of chemistry, renowned
for his discovery of gun cotton. The collection of MSS. is very large
and rich; and we had the gratification to have in our hands the
handwriting of several letters by Melancthon, Calvin, Luther, Erasmus,
&c., &c. I think this is a good place to live in for purposes of study.
At Basle there is a large missionary seminary; and a great many of the
best missionaries in India and Africa were educated here. We also
visited the private reading-room of a club, and found a very good
library there. On the table were several American papers--the New York
Herald, Express, and the Boston Mercantile Journal. After dinner we took
a carriage and repaired to St. Jacob, a quiet village, about one mile
from Basle. Here we found a neat little church, and, at the junction of
two roads, a Gothic cross, to commemorate the famous battle of St.
Jacob, in 1444, when sixteen hundred Swiss fought the French army under
the dauphin for a whole day. The French were over sixteen thousand
strong. Only ten Swiss escaped the slaughter. Lest you should think me
at fault upon the numbers in this battle, I would say that I know
Watteville calls the Swiss twelve hundred, and the French thirty
thousand; but I quote from Swiss historians, who are deemed good
authority. We went into the little tavern and drank some red wine, which
goes by the name of Swiss blood. We then ascended an eminence commanding
a fine view of the city, the river, and the Jura Mountains. At the
summit we found a church; and the parsonage next to it looked very cosy
and comfortable. The pastor's children were running about, and were very
noble-looking boys. We learnt that while the stipend of the pastor was
very small,--as is the case in Switzerland,--yet he was a man of wealth.
We were quite amused with the market day here. Droves of country people
were in the streets--the women in country costume; and on the ground
there were vast collections of crockery, which seemed one of the chief
articles of traffic.
A charming drive, late in the afternoon, took us to the consul's
hospitable abode; and there, with his lady, we had a thoroughly Yankee
tea-time. In the evening we walked back to the city, crossing the old
bridge.
Yours affectionately,
WELD.
Letter 45.
LAUSANNE.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
We left Basle on a bright morning, at six o'clock, having places in the
_coupe_ of the diligence for Berne, a distance of seventy-six miles. We
took this route in order to enjoy the remarkable scenery which marks the
Moutiers Valley, which is the most romantic in the Jura Mountain range.
This journey entirely takes the palm, for enjoyment, of any in our tour;
and I think I am more surprised and gratified than I was on the Rhine.
Certainly the prospect was more constantly grand and awe inspiring. We
started with six horses,--three abreast,--and jogged on, at about six
miles the hour, over as good roads as I ever travelled. They are, also,
the cleanest you ever saw. All along, at intervals, we saw men with
badges on their hats, who appeared to have charge of the highway. Every
thing on the road is scraped up; and at every quarter of a mile, or
less, there is at the wayside an enclosure for manure, into which every
thing is turned. On all the line of travel in Switzerland, we were
struck with the careful way in which heaps of manure are protected by
large bands of corded hay, twisted around. Then, too, in the villages
and towns we were all interested with the enormous stone troughs for
watering cattle. Some of these appeared to me full twenty feet long,
and two or three deep. On our way from Basle we passed the battle ground
of St. Jacob; and some way farther on we saw the battle field of
Dornach, at which place the Swiss obtained a victory over the Austrians
in 1499. A little before reaching Tavannes we ascended a hill, and came
to a wonderful archway across the road--perhaps natural. On it is a
Roman inscription. The arch is, I should think, nearly fifty feet high
and fifteen feet in depth. We then went on to Bienne; and a
pretty-looking place it is. We left it on our right, and our road was
very hilly, really mountainous, and the air was sharp. As we walked for
two or three miles to help the horses, we found the wild strawberries
offered for sale very pleasant. We reached Berne late in the evening;
and the entrance to the town, through a noble avenue of trees called the
Engae, was very pleasant. We repaired to the Faucon, and enjoyed the
repose of a long night.
Berne is a large town, with a population of nearly thirty thousand. It
lies on the banks of the Aar, which goes almost round the city. The
great elevation of the city--seventeen hundred feet above the sea--gives
it quite an appearance on approaching it. Then the houses are all built
upon arched pathways, and they form arcades, very much like the old city
of Chester, in England. We noticed several watch towers, evidently very
ancient; and one in the town, near our hotel, has a queer clock, which,
like that at Strasburg, is mechanical. On striking, out comes a cock and
flaps away with his wings, and then little images appear, and bears pass
by a puppet, seated on a throne. Bears seem to be the guardian angels of
the place, and are the arms of the town. We were very much pleased with
an extensive prospect of the Bernese Alps, from a terrace overhanging
the rapid river. I cannot tell you how many peaks we saw covered with
snow. Our panorama, purchased here, enumerates more than a dozen; and
among these are the Wetterhorn, Stockhorn, and Jungfrau. We greatly
enjoyed a fine sunset from this spot. The Cathedral is a noble
structure, built between 1421 and 1573, and from designs by the son of
the architect of the Cathedral at Strasburg. Some of the work here is
exceedingly fine. The great entrance is very imposing, and has rich
sculptures. Here, too, are some beautifully-painted windows--one
describing the pope grinding the four evangelists in a mill, out of
which comes wafers, is very curious. The organ is very fine, and the
case one of the richest in Europe. It has four rows of keys and
sixty-six stops. The font is of black granite, and has the date of 1525,
which is three years previous to the church reformation in this canton.
It has some finely-sculptured images of the Trinity, Virgin Mary, and
St. Vincent, the patron saint of the church. We were pointed out the
communion table, of marble, which is an immense block, and before the
reformation it was an altar at Lausanne. There are some fine monuments,
having great antiquity.
In the choir we were delighted with the old prebendal stalls, over which
were figures of Christ and his apostles, and on the opposite side
prophets, all in carved wood. One of the prophets was a capital likeness
of Luther.
As we were leaving this noble edifice, we met a minister coming in; he
wore a short, black gown, and had a deep white ruff on his shoulders.
The library of the town embraces about forty-five thousand volumes--and
well assorted, too. What a reproach it is to us that, excepting in
Providence, hardly any small city has what can be called a library!
The Museum we could not examine. I spoke of bears: well, the town keeps
several of these fellows at a place called the Baerengraben.
Much did we long to take a trip into the Bernese Oberland, but it was
not practicable; so we started for Lausanne by diligence, a distance of
fifty-six miles, and were eleven hours on the way. We saw much fine
scenery, but nothing that would compare with the Munster Thal or Valley
of Moutiers, and which I think would pay any lover of nature to come
from America to look at and travel through. The places we went through
were Morat, famous for its battle in 1476; Avenches, the Roman
Aventicum; Payerne, &c. The last few miles were of great labor in
ascent; and as it was pitch dark for some miles, I cannot tell much
about what is said to be beautiful.
At Lausanne we went to the Hotel Gibbon, and a lovelier spot than the
rear of this mansion eye never rested upon. Again we were weary, and
found good beds very inviting.
Yours, &c.,
JAMES.
Letter 46.
LAUSANNE AND GENEVA.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
We are staying in one of the most romantic and beautiful spots that I
ever had the pleasure to visit. The population is seventeen thousand,
and on the increase. It is the favorite resort of the English; and no
wonder, for here are displays of the glory and of the power of the
Creator rarely to be seen. The town stands on a mount, and descends
gradually to the lake. On every side are most precipitous ravines; and
the streets are the most break-neck-looking highways I ever saw.
Putnam's Leap would be thought nothing of at Lausanne.
Our hotel overlooks Gibbon's garden, and we saw his trees and seat.
Here he composed his eloquent work on the Roman empire. His portrait is
in the hotel dining-room. The prospect surpasses in richness all that I
had fancied. Before us lie the Alps, with snowy tops; between us and
these is the glassy lake, and on its waters we notice a regatta, the
boats all adorned with flags and the crews with ribbons. There are, I
should think, from fifty to seventy-five boats in sight. Up in the Alps
there is a fire in the woods; and the volume of smoke and flashing of
flame form a fine addition to the scene.
The temperature of the climate is very favorable to health; and now, in
June, it reminds us of our finest clear days at Newport.
On Sabbath morning we repaired to a charming little Episcopal church,
near the lake; and the walk of a mile down hill was delightful. On both
sides of the road were fine villas, and on the left one estate had its
long wall defended by a hedge of roses in full bloom; such a hedge is
rarely to be witnessed. We heard a prosy sermon from the old gentleman
who has officiated there for some years. I noticed a lady and four sweet
little girls who sat in the next pew to us, and was convinced that she
was an English lady; and when we overtook her ascending the hill, on our
return, I took the liberty to ask a question about the church. She very
politely gave me the information, and a conversation commenced. She told
me, as a stranger, what I ought to see; and when we were leaving her,
she politely offered us an invitation to join her family in the evening,
to take a walk to the mountain overhanging Lausanne, known as the
Signal, and from whence, in olden time, the watch-fire used to be
kindled when the cantons were called to arm for liberty, or danger was
expected. This kindness we accepted; and when she gave me her address, I
found I had to call at the Hotel de Ville. Well, at half past six, the
lads and I repaired to the mansion, a very venerable pile, and we found
that our kind friend was no less a personage than the wife of the
syndic, or mayor of the city. We were most kindly received and
introduced to his honor--a fine-looking, elderly gentleman, who spoke no
English; but his family conversed generally in our language. We sallied
forth, and took a walk up, up, up,--never will the boys forget that
tramp; indeed, Charley, it was the hardest affair I ever went through;
but after the ascent was achieved, the recompense was ample. Such a
survey of lake, shore, Alps, city, villages, vineyards, cannot be
enjoyed elsewhere. It was very cold in these upper regions; and as we
descended, the shades of night were over us, and a beautiful moon made
its appearance. When parting from our friends, they urged our joining
them at seven o'clock to visit the Cathedral, with the mayor as our
guide. I accepted the polite offer, but the boys were frightened at the
thought of another ascent; for the minster is perched upon a cliff, and
you ascend some hundreds of steps to reach the platform.
At seven we were on hand, and with the syndic and his sweet little girl
we visited the finest Gothic pile in Switzerland, which was built in
1275, and consecrated by Gregory X. The form is that of the Latin cross.
Formerly it had two towers; but one was destroyed by lightning, in 1825.
Here are several fine monuments and tombs of interest; one an effigy in
mail armor of Otho of Grandeson, and another of Pope Felix V., who
resigned the papacy and became a monk, and a very beautiful one to the
wife of Stratford Canning; the figures of which are eight in number, and
two of them are by Canova; also the tomb of Bernard de Menthon, founder
of the St. Bernard Hospice.
We returned to the Hotel de Ville and took breakfast with Madame Gadaud,
for whom and her kind family we shall long cherish grateful
recollections.
From Lausanne we took boat for Vevay. The port of Lausanne is the little
village of Ouchy. I ought to tell you that John Philip Kemble, the great
tragedian, is buried two miles from this place. We found the excursion
on the lake very agreeable, and passed many pretty villages on the left
shore till we came to Vevay, a sweet little town, of five thousand
inhabitants, and is embowered in vineyards. It is about one mile and a
quarter from the foot of the Alps. Here we had a view of the Castle of
Chillon, and Byron was on our tongues at once. My great object in coming
here was to see St Martin's Church, for here are buried Ludlow, the
regicide, and Broughton, who read the sentence of Charles I. Charles II.
could never get the Swiss to deliver these patriots into his hands. In
the afternoon we took another boat and went to Geneva in about five
hours, and stopped at Ouchy, Morges, Rolle, Nyon, and Coppet. At Morges
is a fine old castle, in good condition. Nearly opposite Rolle we saw
the hoary head of Mont Blanc, towering above the giant brotherhood of
Alpine heights. We did not see Lake Leman in a storm, and though
certainly beautiful in its adjuncts, not more so than Lake Erie. At
Coppet was the residence of Madame De Stael.
We reached Geneva in the evening at seven, and went to the Hotel L'Eou.
Here we were delighted to meet again with the Rev. Dr. Murray and Dr.
Chetwood, and also to find the Rev. Mr. Chickering and Rev. Mr. Jacobus,
with his family, and other valued friends.
The approach to Geneva from the lake is very imposing; but I was less
pleased with the town itself than I expected to be. Its position is very
grand. Its history is every thing, however. The Cathedral Church of St.
Peter is a fine specimen of the Gothic of the eleventh century. The
sounding board is the same under which Calvin preached.
The population is about forty thousand, including the suburbs, and
thousands of tourists are every year residents for a few days. We had a
pleasant morning at the Museum, where are some good pictures and many
curiosities. In the library are Calvin's letters in MS., forty or fifty
volumes of MS. sermons, &c. This same Calvin and this old town of Geneva
have had much to do with our own blessed country; and we feel the agency
of this man and this town in all our ten thousand joys and comforts.
I could not forget that here was the home of Merle D'Aubigne, the
historian of the Protestant reformation, and that here, too, is the
residence of the learned Gaussen, the author of Theopneusty, and of the
venerable Caesar Malan. Calling upon this last-named gentleman, I was
delighted to find that the Evangelical Association of Geneva was in
annual session. This is the great Protestant body with which the
American Evangelical Union is in alliance, and for whose operations our
friend Dr. Baird has awakened so lively an interest. I went to the
church where the meeting was convened, and was introduced to Count
George, a very pious Frenchman of fortune, who resides here and devotes
himself to the cause of the Protestant religion. He is a Baptist, but is
connected with the church which embraces several evangelical
denominations. The count presided with great ability; he is a very
elegant man, about thirty-four, I should imagine.
I had the pleasure to hear D'Aubigne give a report of his visit to Great
Britain. He spoke for two hours. He is quite the orator, and had entire
command of the audience, who wept and laughed as he proceeded. The
historian is a very noticeable man, and strongly reminded us all of
President Wayland, to whom his resemblance is very striking.
Dr. Murray made a few remarks on behalf of his brethren, and we were all
invited to a _soiree_ at the assembly-rooms in the evening. Perhaps two
hundred and fifty ladies and gentlemen were present. Several addresses
and prayers were made. I was announced for an address, but came late on
the list; and having no fancy to be translated by a man at my elbow, I
quietly withdrew at the fitting time. I was much pleased with Professor
Gaussen, who is a very accomplished gentleman. He looks about
forty-five, but told me he was very much older.
The clergy present at this convocation were from various parts of France
and all the Swiss cantons, and I never saw a finer set of men in any
clerical assembly. Pastor Malan is exceedingly venerable in his
appearance. He is about sixty-eight years of age, his hair gray, and
worn long in the neck, with a good deal of curl to it. His gait is
quick, and he has much the manner of the venerable Dr. Beecher. This
patriarch of Geneva is very cheerful, knows every one, and has a word
for every one. He told me that he loved Americans, but that they had
spoiled his habitation by stealing two of his daughters, who, he
explained to me, were married to excellent clergymen in the United
States.
We met with great kindness in this city from Mr. Delorme, a gentleman
who once resided in New York. He invited us to accompany his family on
an excursion to the summit of the Saleve, a mountain in Savoy, which is
three thousand one hundred and fifty feet above the lake. We went in two
carriages, and stopped at a village on the mountain side, where we had
cakes, coffee, and wine. Here, in a sweet little arbor, surrounded with
roses, we gazed at Mont Blanc, and on a near summit could very clearly
trace the profile of Napoleon. He looks "like a warrior taking his
sleep." The illusion surpasses in accuracy of expression any thing that
I know of that is similar; there are chin, nose, eye, and the old cocked
hat, while the eternal vapor over the summit of the peak forms the
feather.
We looked down in a ravine and saw the Aar with its icy stream. The
carriages went round to meet the party, and the ascent was made. The
mountain seems to hang over Geneva, though several miles off. We were
greatly pleased with a few good houses, in fine positions; but Savoy is
not Switzerland. Here Popery is rampant and pauperism evident. Beggars
beset our carriages, and the people looked squalid.
[Illustration: Swiss Cottage.]
I forgot to tell you how much we were pleased with the cottages in
Switzerland; they are quite cheerful looking,--some very fine
affairs,--but many are not very unlike our western log-houses.
We returned to Geneva at about ten, and found at our friend's house a
most sumptuous repast provided for our entertainment. I never sat down
at a more elegant supper table. Every luxury seemed placed before us,
including the richest wines of the Rhine.
The Roman salad, a peculiar kind of lettuce, which we saw in France, and
here again, seemed to us all as quite different from our ordinary kinds;
and I have at Genera obtained four or five varieties of the seed for
home cultivation.
While at this city we procured some good specimens of wooden ware, Swiss
cottages, &c., and the boys bought watches, jewelry, &c., for presents.
We were all delighted with a little island in the centre of a bridge
which goes across the lake; it was a favorite retreat of Rousseau, and
there is a statue to his memory.
Calvin's residence is still to be seen, No. 116 Rue des Chanoins. We saw
the place where Servetus was burnt. The place and prospect were too
beautiful for such a foul desecration. But Calvin's virtues were his
own, and the faults he fell into belonged to the influence of the age.
It was much so with those greatest and best of men, the New England
Pilgrim Fathers. I know they had faults, but they were only spots upon
the polished mirror. God reared them up, a rare race of men, for a rare
purpose; and I do not like to hear them abused because they were not
perfect. If Laud had come to Plymouth Rock instead of Brewster, Bonner
instead of Carver, what kind of a community would have been established
and handed down?
In Geneva, too, we had the pleasure to meet a valued friend, Mr. B.,
from Providence, who has been travelling extensively, and gathering up
the treasures of other cities to enrich the one of his birth.
To-morrow we are off for Paris, and go by diligence to Dijon; thence by
railroad.
Yours affectionately,
J.O.C.
Letter 47.
PARIS.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
We started from Geneva in the diligence for Dijon, a long drag of one
hundred and twenty miles. The weather was oppressively hot, and
certainly the roads could not well be more dusty. We had two very
gentlemanly companions, Swiss, who were going to London to visit the
exhibition. We entered France about four miles on our way, and came to
Ferney, where Voltaire so long resided. We passed Gex, and ascended the
Jura; then to La Vattay. The view from the mountain of the lake and Mont
Blanc, together with the Alpine range, is never to be forgotten by one
who has the good fortune to see it. I feel that I am acquiring new
emotions and gathering up new sources of thought in this journey, and
that I cannot be a trifler and waster away of life in such a world as
that I live in. I find in every place so much to read about, and study
over, and think upon, that I now feel as if life itself would not be
long enough to do all I should like to effect. One thing is certain,
Charley; I cannot be indolent without feeling that, with the motives and
stimulus of this tour pressing upon me, I shall be very guilty.
The scenery of this journey has set me thinking; and so I have written
rather sentimentally, but truly.
At St. Laurent we came to the French custom-house, and a pretty thorough
overhauling they made. I believe the fellows hooked some of our
engravings, which they carried out of the room.
Still up, till we reached Morez, the Jura's greatest elevation. The last
half was travelled in the night; so I cannot give you the line of march.
We got to Dijon about eight in the morning, and only had time to get a
hasty breakfast at the railroad station; but we had quite a look at the
city before entering the cars for Paris.