Prieuré. The clouds shifted, so that the peaks were now visible and
then were lost again; at one moment the sun's rays came in streaks on
the valley, at the next the whole of it was again in shade. We went
up the valley, passing the outlet of the ice-stream, then the glacier
d'Argentière, which is the highest of the five, the top of it however
was hidden from our view by the clouds. On the plain we held a counsel,
whether we should or not take the route over Col de Balme, and abandon
the road over Valorsine. The prospect was not the most promising;
however, as here there was nothing to lose and much perhaps to gain,
we took our way boldly towards the dark region of mists and clouds. As
we approached the Glacier du Tour, the clouds parted, and we saw this
glacier also in full light. We sat down awhile and drank a flask of
wine, and took something to eat. We now mounted towards the sources
of the Arve, passing over rugged meadows and patches scantily covered
with turf, and came nearer and nearer to the region of mists, until at
last we entered right into it. We went on patiently for awhile till
at last as we got up higher, it began again to clear above our heads.
It lasted for a short time, so we passed right out of the clouds, and
saw the whole mass of them beneath us spread over the valley, and were
able to see the summits of all the mountains on the right and left that
enclosed it, with the exception of Mont Blanc, which was covered with
clouds. We were able to point them out one by one, and to name them.
In some we saw the glaciers reaching from their summits to their feet,
in others we could only discern their tracks, as the ice was concealed
from our view by the rocky sides of the gorges. Beyond the whole of the
flat surface of the clouds, except at its southern extremity, we could
distinctly see the mountains glittering in the sunshine. Why should I
enumerate to you the names of summits, peaks, needles, icy and snowy
masses, when their mere designations can furnish no idea to your mind,
either of the whole scene or of its single objects?
[Sidenote: Col de Balme.]
It was quite singular how the spirits of the air seemed to be waging
war beneath us. Scarcely had we stood a few minutes enjoying the
grand view, when a hostile ferment seemed to arise within the mist,
and it suddenly rose upwards and threatened once more to envelope us.
We commenced stoutly ascending the height, in the hope of yet awhile
escaping from it, but it outstripped us and enclosed us on all sides.
However, perfectly fresh, we continued to mount, and soon there came
to our aid a strong wind, blowing from the mountain. Blowing over the
saddle which connected two peaks, it drove the mist back again into the
valley. This strange conflict was frequently repeated, and at last, to
our joy, we reached the Col de Balme. The view from it was singular,
indeed unique. The sky above the peaks was overcast with clouds; below,
through the many openings in the mist, we saw the whole of Chamouni,
and between these two layers of cloud the mountain summits were all
visible. On the east we were shut in by rugged mountains, on the west
we looked down on wild valleys, where, however, on every green patch
human dwellings were visible. Before us lay the valley of Valais, where
at one glance the eye took in mountains piled in every variety of mass
one upon another, and stretching as far as Martinac and even beyond
it. Surrounded on all sides by mountains which, further on towards the
horizon, seemed continually to multiply and to tower higher and higher,
we stood on the confines of Valais and Savoy.
Some contrabandists, who were ascending the mountains with their mules,
were alarmed at seeing us, for at this season they did not reckon on
meeting with any one at this spot. They fired a shot to intimate that
they were armed, and one advanced before the rest to reconnoitre.
Having recognised our guide and seen what a harmless figure we made, he
returned to his party, who now approached us, and we passed one another
with mutual greetings.
The wind now blew sharp, and it began to snow a little as we commenced
our descent, which was rough and wild enough, through an ancient
forest of pines, which had taken root on the faces of the gneiss. Torn
up by the winds, the trunks and roots lay rotting together, and the
rocks which were loosened at the same time were lying in rough masses
among them.
At last we reached the valley where the river Trent takes its rise from
a glacier, and passing the village of Trent, close upon our right, we
followed the windings of the valley along a rather inconvenient road,
and about six reached Martinac, which lies in the flatter portion of
the Valais. Here we must refresh ourselves for further expeditions.
* * * * *
_Martinac, Nov._ 6, 1779. _Evening._
Just as our travels proceed uninterruptedly, so my letters one after
another keep up my conversation with you. Scarcely have I folded and
put aside the conclusion of "Wanderings through Savoy," ere I take up
another sheet of paper in order to acquaint you with all that we have
further in contemplation.
It was night when we entered a region about which our curiosity had
long been excited. As yet we have seen nothing but the peaks of the
mountains, which enclose the valley on both sides, and then only in the
glimmering of twilight. We crept wearily into our auberge, and saw from
the window the clouds shifting. We felt as glad and comfortable to have
a roof over our heads, as children do when with stools, table-leaves
and carpets, they construct a roof near the stove, and therein say to
one another that outside "it is raining or knowing," in order to excite
a pleasant and imaginary shudder in their little souls. It is exactly
so with us on this autumnal evening in this strange and unknown region.
[Sidenote: Valais.]
We learn from the maps that we are sitting in the angle of an elbow,
from which the smaller part of Valais, running almost directly from
south to north, and with the Rhone, extends to the lake of Geneva,
while the other and the larger portion stretches from west to east,
and goes up the Rhone to its source, the Furca. The prospect of riding
through the Valais is very agreeable, our only anxiety is how we are
to cross over into it. First of all, with the view of seeing the
lower portion, it is settled that we go to-morrow to S. Maurice, where
we are to meet our friend, who with the horses has gone round by the
Pays de Vaud. To-morrow evening we think of being here again, and
then on the next day shall begin to go up the country. If the advice
of M. de Saussure prevails, we shall perform the route to the Furca
on horseback, and then back to Brieg over the Simplon, where, in any
weather, the travelling is good over Domo d'Osula, Lago Maggiore,
Bellinzona, and then up Mount Gotthard. The road is said to be
excellent, and everywhere passable for horses. We should best prefer
going over the Furca to S. Gotthard, both for the sake of the shorter
route, and also because this detour through the Italian provinces
was not within our original plan, but then what could we do with
our horses; they could not be made to descend the Furca, for in all
probability the path for pedestrians is already blocked up by the snow.
With regard to the latter contingency, however, we are quite at our
ease, and hope to be able, as we have hitherto done, to take counsel,
from moment to moment, with circumstances as they arise.
The most remarkable object in this inn is a servant-girl, who with the
greatest stupidity gives herself all the airs of one of our would-be
delicate German ladies. We had a good laugh, when after bathing our
weary feet in a bath of red wine and clay, as recommended by our guide,
we had in the affected hoyden to wipe them dry.
Our meal has not refreshed us much, and after supper we hope to enjoy
our beds more.
* * * * *
_S. Maurice, Nov._ 7, 1779. _Nearly Noon._
On the road it is my way to enjoy the beautiful views, in order that I
may call in one by one my absent friends, and converse with them on the
subject of the glorious objects. If I come into an inn it is in order
to rest myself, to go back in memory and to write something to you,
when many a time my overstrained faculties would much rather collapse
upon themselves, and recover their tone in a sort of half sleep.
This morning we set off at dawn from Martinac; a fresh breeze was
stirring with the day, and we soon passed the old castle which stands
at the point where the two arms of Valais make a sort of Y. The valley
is narrow, shut in on its two sides by mountains, highly diversified
in their forms, and which without exception are of a peculiar and
sublimely beautiful character. We came to the spot where the Trent
breaks into the valley around some narrow and perpendicular rocks, so
that one almost doubts whether the river does not flow out of the solid
rock itself. Close by stands the old bridge, which only last year was
greatly injured by the stream, while not far from it lie immense masses
of rock, which have fallen very recently from the mountains and blocked
up the road. The whole group together would make an extremely beautiful
picture. At a short distance from the old bridge a new wooden one has
been built, and a new road been laid down to it.
[Sidenote: The water-fall of Pisse Vache.]
We were told that we were getting near the famous water-fall of Pisse
Vache, and wished heartily for a peep at the sun, while the shifting
clouds gave us a good hope that our wish would be gratified. On the
road we examined various pieces of granite and of gneiss, which with
all their differences seem, nevertheless, to have a common origin. At
last we stood before the waterfall, which well deserves its fame above
all others. At a considerable height a strong stream bursts from a
cleft in the rock, falling downward into a basin, over which the foam
and spray is carried far and wide by the wind. The sun at this moment
came forth from the clouds, and made the sight doubly vivid. Below in
the spray, wherever you go, you have close before you a rainbow. If
you go higher up, you still witness no less singular a phenomenon. The
airy foaming waves of the upper stream of water, as with their frothy
vapour, they come in contact with the angle of vision at which the
rainbow is formed, assume a flame-like hue, without giving rise to the
pendant form of the bow, so that at this point you have before you a
constantly varying play of fire.
We climbed all round, and sitting down near it, wished we were able
to spend whole days and many a good hour of our life on this spot.
Here too, as in so many other places during our present tour, we felt
how impossible is was to enjoy and to be fully impressed with grand
objects on a passing visit.
We next came to a village where there were some merry soldiers, and we
drank there some new wine. Some of the same sort had been set before us
yesterday. It looked like soap and water; however, we had rather drink
it than their sour "this year's" and "two years' old" wine. When one is
thirsty nothing comes amiss.
We saw S. Maurice at a distance; it lies just at the point where
the valley closes in, so much as to cease to be anything more than
a mere pass. Over the city, on the left, we saw a small church with
a hermitage close to it, and we hope to have an opportunity yet of
visiting them both.
We found in the inn a note from our friend, who has stopped at Bec,
which is about three quarters of a league from this place; we have sent
a messenger to him. The Count is gone out for a walk to see the country
before us. I shall take a morsel to eat, and then set out towards the
famous bridge and the pass.
* * * * *
_After 1 o'clock._
I have at last got back from the spot where one could be contented to
spend whole days together, lounging and loitering about without once
getting tired, holding converse with oneself.
If I had to advise any one as to the best route into Valais, I should
recommend the one from the Lake of Geneva up the Rhone. I have been on
the road to Bec over the great bridge, from which you step at once into
the Bernese territority. Here the Rhone flows downwards, and the valley
near the lake becomes a little broader. As I turned round again I saw
that the rocks near S. Maurice pressed together from both sides, and
that a small light bridge, with a high arch, was thrown boldly across
from them over the Rhone, which rushes beneath it with its roaring and
foaming stream. The numerous angles and turrets of a fortress stands
close to the bridge, and a single gateway commands the entrance into
Valais. I went over the bridge back towards S. Maurice, and even beyond
it, in search of a view which I had formerly seen a drawing of at
Huber's house, and by good luck found it.
The count is come back. He had gone to meet the horses and mounting
his grey had outstripped the rest. He says the bridge is so light and
beautiful that it looks like a horse in the act of leaping a ditch.
Our friend too is coming, and is quite contented with his tour. He
accomplished the distance from the Lake of Geneva to Bec in a few days,
and we are all delighted to see one another again.
* * * * *
_Martinac, towards_ 9.
We were out riding till late at night, and the road seemed much longer
returning than going, as in the morning, our attention had been
constantly attracted from one object to another. Besides I am for this
day, at least, heartily tired of descriptions and reflections; however,
I must try hastily to perpetuate the memory of two beautiful objects.
It was deep twilight when on our return we reached the waterfall of
the Pisse Vache. The mountains, the valley, and the heavens themselves
were dark and dusky. By its greyish tint and unceasing murmur you could
distinguish the falling stream from all other objects, though you could
scarcely discern the slightest motion. Suddenly the summit of a very
high peak glowed just like molten brass in a furnace, and above it rose
a red smoke. This singular phenomenon was the effect of the setting sun
which illuminated the snow and the mists which ascended from it.
-------
_Sion, Nov._ 8, 1779. _about 3 o'clock._
[Sidenote: From Martinac to Sion.]
This morning we missed our way riding, and were delayed in consequence,
three hours at least. We set out from Martinac before dawn, in
order to reach Sion in good time. The weather was extraordinarily
beautiful, only that the sun being low in the heavens was shut out by
the mountains, so that the road, as we passed along, was entirely in
the shade. The view, however, of the marvellously beautiful valley of
Valais brought up many a good and cheerful idea. We had ridden for full
three hours along the high road with the Rhone on our left, when we
saw Sion before us; and we were beginning to congratulate ourselves on
the prospect of soon ordering our noon-day's meal, when we found that
the bridge we ought to cross had been carried away. Nothing remained
for us, we were told by the people who were busy repairing it, but
either to leave our horses and go by a foot-path which ran across
the rocks, or else to ride on for about three miles, and then cross
the Rhone by some other bridges. We chose the latter; and we would
not suffer any ill-humour to get possession of us, but determined to
ascribe this mischance to the interposition of our good genius, who
intended to take us a slow ride through this interesting region with
the advantage of good day-light. Everywhere, indeed, in this narrow
district, the Rhone makes sad havoc. In order to reach the other
bridges we were obliged, for more than a league and a half, to ride
over sandy patches, which in the various inundations are constantly
shifting, and are useful for nothing but alder and willow beds. At
last we came to the bridges, which were wretched, tottering, long, and
composed of rotten timbers. We had to lead our horses over one by one,
and with extreme caution. We were now on the left side of the Valais
and had to turn backwards to get to Sion. The road itself was for the
most part wretched and stony; every step, however, opened a fresh
view, which was well worth a painting. One, however, was particularly
remarkable. The road brought us up to a castle, below which there was
spread out the most lovely scene that we had seen in the whole road.
The mountains nearest to us run down on both sides slantingly to the
level ground, and by their shape gave a kind of perspective effect to
the natural landscape. Beneath us was the Valais in its entire breadth
from mountain to mountain, so that the eye could easily take it in; the
Rhone, with its ever varying windings and bushy banks was flowing past
villages, meadows, and richly cultivated highlands; in the distance
you saw the Castle of Sion, and the various hills which begin to rise
behind it; the farthest horizon was shut in, amphitheatre like, with
a semicircular range of snow-capped mountains which, like all the
rest of the scene, stood glittering in the sun's meridian splendour.
Disagreeable and rough was the road we had to ride over; we therefore
enjoyed the more, perhaps, the still tolerably green festoons of the
vines which over-arched it. The inhabitants, to whom every spot of
earth is precious, plant their grape-vines close against the walls
which divide their little holdings from the road, where they grow to
an extraordinary thickness, and by means of stakes and trellises are
trained across the road so as almost to form one continuous arbour.
The lower grounds were principally meadows: in the neighbourhood of
Sion, however, we notice? some tillage. Towards this town the scenery
is extremely diversified by a variety of hills, and we wished to be
able to make a longer stay in order to enjoy it. But the hideousness of
the town and of the people fearfully disturb the pleasant impression
which the scenery leaves. The most frightful goitres put me altogether
out of humour. We cannot well put our horses any further to-day, and
therefore we think or going on foot to Seyters. Here in Sion the inn is
disgusting, and the whole town has a dirty and revolting appearance.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Sion--Seyters.]
_Seyters, Nov._ 8, 1779. _Night._
As evening had begun to fall before we set out from Sion, we reached
here at night, with the sky above us clear and starry. We have
consequently lost many a good view--that I know well. Particularly we
should have liked to have ascended to the Castle of Tourbillon, which
is at no great distance from Sion; the view from it must be uncommonly
beautiful. A guide whom we took with us skilfully guided us through
some wretched low lands, where the water was out. We soon reached the
heights, and had the Rhone below us on our right. By talking over some
astronomical matters we shortened our road, and have taken up our
abode here with some very worthy people, who are doing their best to
entertain us. When we think over what we have gone through, so busy a
day, with its many incidents and sights, seems almost equal to a whole
week. I begin to be quite sorry that I have neither time nor talent to
sketch at least the outlines of the most remarkable objects; for that
would be much better for the absent than all descriptions.
* * * * *
_Seyters, Nov._ 9, 1779.
Before we set out I can just bid you good morning. The Count is going
with me to the mountains on the left, towards Leukerbad; our friend
will, in the meantime, stay here with the horses, and join us to-morrow
at Leuk.
* * * * *
_Leukerbad, Nov._ 9, 1779. _At the Foot of Mount Gemmi._
In a little wooden house where we have been friendlily received by some
very worthy people, we are sitting in a small, low room, and trying
how much of to-day's highly interesting tour can be communicated in
words. Starting from Seyters very early we proceeded for three leagues
up the mountains, after having passed large districts laid waste by
the mountain torrents. One of these streams will suddenly rise and
desolate an extent of many miles, covering with fragments of rock and
gravel the fields, meadows, and gardens, which (at least wherever
possible) the people laboriously set to work to clear, in order within
two generations, perhaps, to be again laid waste. We have had a grey
day, with every now and then a glimpse of sunshine. It is impossible
to describe how infinitely variegated the Valais here again becomes;
the landscape bends and changes every moment, cooking around you all
the objects seem to lie close together, and yet they are separated by
great ravines and hills. Generally we had had the open part of the
valley below us, on the right, when suddenly we came upon a spot which
commanded a most beautiful view over the mountains.
In order to render more clear what it is I am attempting to describe,
I must say a few words on the geographical position of the district
in which we are at present. We had now for three hours been ascending
the mountainous region which separates Valais from Berne. This is, in
fact, the great track of mountains which runs in one continuous chain
from the Lake of Geneva to Mount S. Gothard, and on which, as it passes
through Berne, rest the great masses of ice and snow. Here _above_ and
_below_ are but the relative terms of the moment. I say, for instance,
beneath me lies a village--and in all probability the level on which
it is built is on a precipitous summit, which is far higher above the
valley below, than I am above it.
[Sidenote: Inden--The Gemmi.]
As we turned an angle of the road and rested awhile at a hermitage, we
saw beneath us, at the end a lovely green meadowland, which stretched
along the brink of an enormous chasm, the village of Inden, with
its white church exactly in the middle of the landscape, and built
altogether on the slope of the hill-side. Beyond the chasm another line
of meadow lands and pine forests went upwards, while right behind the
village a vast cleft in the rocks ran up the summit. On the left hand
the mountains came right down to us, while those on our right stretched
far away into the distance, so that the little hamlet, with its white
church, formed as it were the focus towards which the many rocks,
ravines, and mountains all converged. The road to Inden is cut out of
the precipitous side of the rock, which, on your left going to the
village, lines the amphitheatre. It is not dangerous although it looks
frightful enough. It goes down on the slope of a rugged mass of rocks,
separated from the yawning abyss on the right, by nothing but a few
poor planks. A peasant with a mule, who was descending at the same time
as ourselves, whenever he came to any dangerous points caught his beast
by the tail, lest the steep descent should cause him to slip, and roll
into the rocks below. At last we reached Inden. As our guide was well
known there, he easily managed to obtain for us, from a good-natured
dame, some bread and a glass of red wine, for in these parts there are
no regular inns.
We now ascended the high ravine, behind Inden, where we soon saw before
us the Gemmiberg (of which we had heard such frightful descriptions),
with Leukerbad at its foot, lying between two lofty, inaccessible,
snow-covered mountains, as if it were in the hollow of a hand. It
was three o'clock, nearly, when we arrived there, and our guide soon
procured us lodgings. There is properly no inn even here, but in
consequence of the many visitors to the baths at this place, all people
have good accommodations. Our hostess had been put to bed the day
before, but her husband with an old mother and a servant girl, did very
creditably the honours of the house. We ordered something to eat, and
went to see the warm springs, which in several places burst out of the
earth with great force, and are received in very clean reservoirs. Out
of the village, and more towards the mountains, there are said to be
still stronger ones. The water has not the slightest smell of sulphur,
and neither at its source nor in its channel does it make the least
deposit of ochre or of any other earth or mineral, but like any other
clear spring water it leaves not the slightest trace behind it. As
it comes out of the earth it is extremely hot, and is famous for its
good qualities. We had still time for a walk to the foot of the Gemmi,
which appeared to us to be at no great distance. I must here repeat a
remark that has been made so often already; that when one is surrounded
with mountain scenery all objects appear to be extremely near. We had
a good league to go, amongst fragments of rock which had fallen from
the heights, and over gravel brought down by the torrents, before
we reached the foot of the Gemmi, where the road ascends along the
precipitous crags. This is the only pass into the canton of Berne, and
the sick have to be transported along it in sedan chairs.