On the Spluegen Alps.
Dearest Kitty,--I write these few lines from the Refuge-house on the
Spluegen Pass. We are seven thousand feet above the level of something,
with fifty feet of snow around us, and the deafening roar of avalanches
thundering on the ear. We set out yesterday from the village of Spluegen,
contrary to the advice of the guides, but papa insisted on going. He
declared that if no other means offered, he 'd go on foot, so that
opposition was really out of the question. Our departure was quite a
picture. First came a long, low sledge, with stones and rocks to explore
the way, and show where the footing was secure. Then came three others
with our luggage; after that mamma, under the guidance of a most careful
person, a certain Bernardt something, brother of the man who acted
as guide to Napoleon; Cary followed her in another sledge, and I came
third, papa bringing up the rear, for Betty and the other servants
were tastefully grouped about the luggage. Several additional sledges
followed with spade and shovel-folk, ropes, drags, and other implements
most suggestive of peril and adventure. We were perfect frights to look
at; for, in addition to fur boots and capes, tarpaulins and hoods, we
had to wear snow goggles as a precaution against the fine drifting snow,
so that really for very shame' sake I was glad that each sledge only
held one, and the driver, who is fortunately, also, at your back.
The first few miles of ascent were really pleasurable, for the snow
was hard, and the pace occasionally reached a trot, or at least such a
resemblance to one as shook the conveniency, and made the bells jingle
agreeably on the harness. The road, too, followed a zigzag course on
the steep side of the mountain, so that you saw at moments some of those
above and some beneath you, winding along exactly like the elephant
procession in Bluebeard. The voices sounded cheerily in the sharp
morning air, itself exhilarating to a degree, and this, with the bright
snow-peaks, rising one behind the other in the distance, and the little
village of Spluegen in the valley, made up a scene strikingly picturesque
and interesting. There was a kind of adventure, too, about it all,
dearest Kitty, that never loses its charm for the soul deeply imbued
with a sense of the beautiful and imaginative. I fancied myself at
moments carried away by force into the Steppes of Tartary, or that I
was Elizabeth crossing the Volga, and I believe I even shed tears at my
fancied distress. To another than you, dearest, I might hesitate even if
I confessed as much; but you, who know every weakness of a too feeling
heart, will forgive me for being what I am.
My guide, a really fine-looking mountaineer, with a magnificent beard,
fancied that it was the danger that had appalled me. He hastened to
offer his rude but honest consolations; he protested that there was
nothing whatever like peril, and that if there were--But why do I go on?
even to my dearest friend may not this seem childish? and is it not a
silly vanity that owns it can derive pleasure from every homage, even
the very humblest?
We gradually lost sight of the little smoke-wreathed village, and
reached a wild but grandly desolate region, with snow on every side. The
pathway, too, was now lost to us, and the direction only indicated by
long poles at great intervals. That all was not perfectly safe in front
might be apprehended, for we came frequently to a dead halt, and then
the guides and the shovel-men would pass rapidly to and fro, but,
muffled as we were, all inquiry was impossible, so that we were left to
the horrors of doubt and dread without a chance of relief. At length we
grew accustomed to these interruptions, and felt in a measure tranquil.
Not so the guides, however; they frequently talked together in knots,
and I could see from their upward glances, too, that they apprehended
some change in the weather. Papa had contrived to cut some of the cords
with which they had fastened his muffles, and by great patience and
exertion succeeded in getting his head out of three horsecloths, with
which they had swathed him.
"Are we near the summit?" cried he, in English,--"how far are we from
the top?"
His question was of course unintelligible, but his action not; and the
consequence was that three of our followers rushed over to him, and
after a brief struggle, in which two of them were tumbled over in the
snow, his head was again enclosed within its woolly cenotaph; and,
indeed, but for a violent jerking motion of it, it might have been
feared that even all access to external air was denied him. This little
incident was the only break to the monotony of the way, till nigh noon,
when a cold, biting wind, with great masses of misty vapor, swept past
and around us, and my guide told me that we were somewhere, with a hard
name, and that he wished we were somewhere else, with a harder.
I asked why, but my question died away in the folds of my head-gear, and
I was left to my own thoughts, when suddenly a loud shout rang through
the air. It was a party about to turn back, and the sledges stopped up
the road. The halt led to a consultation between the guides, which I
could see turned on the question of the weather. The discussion was
evidently a warm one, a party being for, and another against it. Hearing
what they said was of course out of the question, muffled as I was; but
their gestures clearly defined who were in favor of proceeding, and who
wished to retrace their steps. One of the former particularly struck me;
for, though encumbered with fur boots and an enormous mantle, his action
plainly indicated that he was something out of the common. He showed
that air of command, too, Kitty, that at once proclaims superiority.
His arguments prevailed, and after a considerable time spent, on we went
again. I followed the interesting stranger till he was lost to me; but
guess my feelings, Kitty, when I heard a voice whisper in my ear,
"Don't be afraid, dearest, I watch over _your_ safety." Oh! fancy the
perturbation of my poor heart, for it was Lord George who spoke. He it
was whose urgent persuasions had determined the guides to proceed, and
he now had taken the place behind my own sledge, and actually drove
instead of the postilion. Can you picture to yourself heroism and
devotion like this? And while I imagined that he was borne along with
all the appliances of ease and comfort, the poor dear fellow was braving
the storm _for me_, and _for me_ enduring the perils of the raging
tempest. From that instant, my beloved Kitty, I took little note of the
dangers around me. I thought but of him who stood so near to me,--so
near, and yet so far off; so close, and yet so severed! I bethought me,
too, how unjust the prejudice of the vulgar mind that attributes to our
youthful nobility habits of selfish indolence and effeminate ease. Here
was one reared in all the voluptuous enjoyment of a splendid household,
trained from his cradle to be waited on and served, and yet was he there
wilfully encountering perils and hardships from which the very bravest
might recoil. Ah, Kitty! it is impossible to deny it,--the highly born
have a native superiority in everything. Their nobility is not a thing
of crosses and ribbons, but of blood. They feel that they are of earth's
purest clay, and they assert the claim to pre-eminence by their own
proud and lofty gifts. I told you, too, that he said "dearest." I might
have been deceived; the noise was deafening at the moment; but I feel
as if my ears could not have betrayed me. At all events, Kitty, his hand
sought mine while he spoke, and though in his confusion it was my elbow
he caught, he pressed it tenderly. In what a delicious dream did I revel
as we slid along over the snow! What cared I for the swooping wind, the
thundering avalanche, the drifting snow-wreath,--was he not there, my
protector and my guide? Had he not sworn to be my succor and my safety?
We had just arrived at a lofty tableland,--some few peaks appeared still
above us, but none very near,--when the wind, with a violence beyond
all description, bore great masses of drift against us, and effectually
barred all farther progress. The stone sledge, too, had partly become
embedded in the soft snow, and the horse was standing powerless, when
suddenly mamma's horse stumbled and fell. In his efforts to rise he
smashed one of the rope traces, so that when he began to pull again,
the unequal draught carried the sledge to one side, and upset it. A
loud shriek told me something had happened, and at the instant Lord G.
whispered in my ear, "It's nothing,--she has only taken a 'header' in
the soft snow, and won't be a bit the worse."
Further questioning was vain; for Cary's sledge-horse shied at the
confusion in front, and plunged off the road into the deep snow, where
he disappeared all but the head, fortunately flinging her out into
the guide's arms. My turn was now to come; for Lord G., with his mad
impetuosity, tried to pass on and gain the front, but the animal, by
a furious jerk, smashed all the tackle, and set off at a wild,
half-swimming pace through the snow, leaving our sledge firmly wedged
between two dense walls of drift Papa sprang out to our rescue; but so
helpless was he, from the quantity of his integuments, that he rolled
over, and lay there on his back, shouting fearfully.
It appeared as if the violence of the storm had only waited for this
moment of general disaster; for now the wind tore along great masses of
snow, that rose around us to the height of several feet, covering up
the horses to their backs, and embedding the men to their armpits. Loud
booming masses announced the fall of avalanches near, and the sky became
darkened, like as if night was approaching. Words cannot convey the
faintest conception of that scene of terror, dismay, and confusion.
Guides shouting and swearing; cries of distress and screams of anguish
mingled with the rattling thunder and the whistling wind. Some were for
trying to go back; others proclaimed it impossible; each instant a new
disaster occurred. The baggage had disappeared altogether, Betty Cobb
being saved, as it sank, by almost superhuman efforts of the guide.
Paddy Byrne, who had mistaken the kick of a horse on the back of his
head for a blow, had pitched into one of the guides, and they were now
fighting in four feet of snow, and likely to carry their quarrel out of
the world with them. Taddy was "nowhere." To add to this uproar, papa
had, in mistake for brandy, drunk two-thirds of a bottle of complexion
wash, and screamed out that he was poisoned. Of mamma I could see
nothing; but a dense group surrounded her sledge, and showed me she was
in trouble.
I could not give you an idea of what followed, for incidents of peril
were every moment interrupted by something ludicrous. The very efforts
we made to disengage ourselves were constantly attended by some absurd
catastrophe, and no one could stir a step without either a fall, or
a plunge up to the waist in soft snow. The horses, too, would make no
efforts to rise, but lay to be snowed over as if perfectly indifferent
to their fate. By good fortune our britschka, from which the wheels had
been taken off, was in a sledge to the rear, and mamma, Cary, and myself
were crammed into this, to which all the horses, and men also, were
speedily harnessed, and by astonishing efforts we were enabled to get
on. Papa and Betty were wedged fast into one sledge, and attached to us
by a tow-rope, and thus we at length proceeded.
When mamma found herself in comparative safety, she went off into a
slight attack of her nerves; but, fortunately, Lord G. found out the
bottle papa had been in vain in search of, and she got soon better. Poor
fellow, no persuasion could prevail on him to come inside along with us.
How he travelled, or how he contrived to brave that fearful day, I never
learned! From this moment our journey was at the rate of about a mile
in three hours, the shovel and spade men having to clear the way as we
went; and what between horses that had to be dug out of holes, harness
repaired, men rescued, and frequent accident to papa's sledge, which, on
an average, was upset every half-hour, our halts were incessant. It was
after midnight that we reached a dreary-looking stone edifice in the
midst of the snow. Anything so dismal I never beheld, as it stood there
surrounded with drift-snow, its narrow windows strongly barred with
iron, and its roof covered with heavy masses of stone to prevent
it being earned away by the hurricane. This, we were told, was the
Refuge-house on the summit, and here, we were informed, we should stay
till a change of weather might enable us to proceed.
But does not the very name "Refuge-house" fill you with thoughts of
appalling danger? Do you not instinctively shudder at the perils to
which this is the haven of succor?
"I see we are not the first here," cried Caroline; "don't you see lights
moving yonder?"
She was right, for as we drew up we perceived a group of guides and
drivers in the doorway, and saw various conveyances and sledges within
the shed at the side of the building.
A dialogue in the wildest shouts was now conducted between our party and
the others, by which we came to learn that the travellers were some
of those who had left Splugen the night before ourselves, and whose
disasters had been even worse than our own. Indeed, as far as I could
ascertain, they had gone through much more than we had.
Our first meeting with papa--in the kitchen, as I suppose I must call
the lower room of this fearful place--was quite affecting, for he had
taken so much of the guide's brandy as an antidote to the supposed
poison, that he was really overcome, and, under the delusion that he was
at home in his own house, ran about shaking hands with every one, and
welcoming them to Dodsborough. Mamma was so convinced that he had lost
his reason permanently, that she was taken with violent hysterics. The
scene baffles all description, occurring, as it did, in presence of
some twenty guides and spade-folk, who drank their "schnaps," ate their
sausages, smoked, and dried their wet garments all the while, with a
most well-bred inattention to our sufferings. Though Cary and I were
obliged to do everything ourselves,--for Betty was insensible, owing to
her having travelled in the vicinity of the same little cordial flask,
and my maid was sulky in not being put under the care of a certain
good-looking guide,--we really succeeded wonderfully, and contrived to
have papa put to bed in a little chamber with a good mattress, and where
a cheerful fire was soon lighted. Mamma also rallied, and Lord George
made her a cup of tea in a kettle, and poured her out a cup of it into
the shaving-dish of his dressing-box, and we all became as happy as
possible.
It appeared that the other arrivals, who occupied a separate quarter,
were not ill provided for the emergency, for a servant used to pass
and repass to their chamber with a very savory odor from the dish he
carried, and Lord G. swore that he heard the pop of a champagne cork. We
made great efforts to ascertain who they were, but without success. All
we could learn was that it was a gentleman and a lady, with their two
servants, travelling in their own carriage, which was unmistakably
English.
"I 'm determined to run them to earth," exclaimed Lord G. at last. "I
'll just mistake my way, and blunder into their apartment."
We endeavored to dissuade him, but he was determined; and when he is so,
Kitty, nothing can swerve him. Off he went, and after a pause of a few
seconds we heard a heavy door slammed, then another. After that, both
Cary and myself were fully persuaded that we heard a hearty burst of
laughter; but though we listened long and painfully, we could detect
no more. Unhappily, too, at this time mamma fell asleep, and her
deep respirations effectually masked everything but the din of the
avalanches. After a while Cary followed ma's example, leaving me alone
to sit by the "watch-fire's light," and here, in the regions of eternal
snow, to commune with her who holds my heart's dearest affections.
It is now nigh three o'clock. The night is of the very blackest, neither
moon nor stars to be seen; fearful squalls of wind--gusts strong enough
to shake this stronghold to its foundation--tear wildly past, and from
the distance comes the booming sound of thundering avalanches. One might
fancy, easily, that escape from this was impossible, and that to be cast
away here implied a lingering but inevitable fate. No great strain of
fancy is needed for such a consummation. We are miles from all human
habitation, and three yards beyond the doorway the boldest would not
dare to venture! And you, Kitty, at this hour are calmly sleeping to the
hum of "the spreading sycamore;" or, perchance, awake, and thinking of
her who now pours out her heart before you; and oh, blame me not if it
be a tangled web that I present to you, for such will human hopes and
emotions ever make it My poor heart is, indeed, a battleground for
warring hopes and fears, high-soaring ambitions, and depressing terrors.
Would that you were here to guide, console, and direct me!
Lord George has not returned. What can his absence mean? All is silent,
too, in the dreary building. My anxieties are fearful,--I dread I know
not what. I fancy a thousand ills that even possibility would have
rejected. The courier is to pass this at five o'clock, so that I must,
perchance, close my letter in the same agony of doubt and uncertainty.
Oh, dearest, only fancy the _mal a propos_. Who do you think our
neighbors are? Mr. and Mrs. Gore Hampton, on their way to Italy! Can you
imagine anything so unfortunate and so distressing? You may remember
all our former intimacy,--I may call it friendship,--and by what an
unpropitious incident it was broken up. Lord George has just come to
tell me the tidings, but, instead of participating in my distress, he
seems to think the affair an admirable joke. I need not tell you that he
knows nothing of mamma's temper, nor her manner of acting. What may come
of this there is no saying. It seems that there is scarcely a chance of
our being able to get on to-day; and here we are all beneath one roof,
our mutual passions of jealousy, hatred, revenge, and malice, all snowed
up on the top of the Splugen Alps!
I have asked of Lord George, almost with tears, what is to be done? but
to all seeming he sees no difficulty in the matter, for his reply is
always, "Nothing whatever." When pressed closely, he says, "Oh, the
Gore Hamptons are such thoroughly well-bred folk, there is never any
awkwardness to be apprehended from _them_. Be quite easy in your mind;
_they_ have tact enough for any emergency." What this may mean, Kitty, I
cannot even guess; for the "situation," as the French would call it, is
peculiar. And as to tact, it is, after all, like skill in a game which,
however available against a clever adversary, is of little value when
opposed to those who neither recognize the rules, nor appreciate the
nice points of the encounter.
But I cannot venture to inquire further; it would at once convict me
of ignorance, so that I appear to be satisfied with an explanation that
explains nothing. And now, Kitty, to conclude; for, though dying to tell
you that this knotty question has been fairly solved, I must seal my
letter and despatch it by Lord George, who is this moment about to set
out for the Toll-house, three miles away. It appears that two of our
guides have refused to go farther, and that we must have recourse to the
authorities to compel them. This is the object of Lord George's mission;
but the dear fellow braves every hardship and every peril for us, and
says that he would willingly encounter far more hazardous dangers
for one "kind word, or one kind look," from your distracted, but ever
devoted
Mary Anne.
They begin to fear now that some accident must have befallen the courier
with the mails; he should have passed through here at midnight. It is
now daybreak, and no sign of him! Our anxieties are terrible, and what
fate may yet be ours there is no knowing.