SWITZERLAND.

We remained in Switzerland from the 19th June to the 11th September,

nearly three months; and as I wish to notice our movements in it, for

the most part in well–beaten paths, merely by way of connection, I

shall do so very briefly. We had decided to spend another winter in the

Riviera, and with a view to this to pass the remainder of the summer

in Switzerland, and thereafter cross over France to Pau and Biarritz,

to spend there the period intervening, till it should be time to move

onwards to Mentone.

* * * * *

The Swiss village of Splugen has a southern exposure, and lies very

picturesquely with its church on the slope and top of a little

eminence, at an altitude of 4757 feet above the sea, overlooking a

valley out of which lofty mountains raise their heads, one of them

to the north behind the village itself. Pine forests are planted on

the slopes, affording, no doubt, a little shelter from the cold north

winds. Like all such places, it looks best at a little distance; and,

approaching it from the opposite hill, it seemed a pretty village of

wooden houses, built in the Swiss chalet style, and therefore quite

a change from the Italian houses to which our eyes had been for the

last few months accustomed. The accommodation was primitive. We were

lodged in a large wooden hotel. The temperature, too, and the aspect

of everything was changed. We had bidden adieu to the heat of Italy,

and found it much colder upon the northern side of the mountains.

This produced an accident which was annoying to me, and created a

good deal of after trouble, as in winding up my watch at night the

chain gave way, I presume, owing to the jump from great heat to frosty

cold to which it had been subjected. The attempt I afterwards made

in Switzerland to get it repaired only made matters worse, and the

ultimate repair at home costly. One would almost require to carry a

spare watch in travelling among these localities. We had time to see

a little of Splugen in the evening. The fields were literally covered

with bright flowers, tempting us to pluck many handfuls. Although

standing so high, the valley does not give one the impression of its

great elevation.

* * * * *

Before eight o’clock next morning, we started for Coire. Down and

down we drove by the banks of the roaring and foaming Rhine, the road

and river being beautifully wooded. The drive was most charming. At

every mile the river got larger, while the mountains reared their

heads above, to heights varying from 8,000 to 11,000 feet. In about

two hours’ time we reached the Via Mala, where the mountains or rocks

converge, and the river dashes far below, in some places nearly hidden

by the pines thickly set upon the precipitous banks, wherever they can

obtain a footing. At one time the pass may have been a dangerous one;

but now, although it be still impressive, the road is good, and there

is nothing to fear, notwithstanding the cliffs rise perpendicularly to

a great height, higher even than they appear to do. Yet, were a mass

of rock to loosen and fall, and block up the road or tear it away, it

would be decidedly awkward for persons passing. The gorge, at which you

look straight up and straight down, is well seen from a bridge, where

a man was ready to plump a big stone into the torrent far down in the

depths below. Everybody walks through the pass; the most indifferent to

grand effects could hardly sit still in his carriage. I suppose it is

possible to get to some safe place near the water, as photographs have

been taken looking up to the bridge; and so seen, it appears perched

high above, over steep and even impending rocks, which, save for a tree

here and there, are smooth and bare, and form a narrow, ugly, perilous

cleft, through which the river flows at the bottom.

Emerging from the pass, and just out of it, we reached the clean and

tidy but shadeless village of Thusis, which lay basking in the hot sun,

though not so hot as we had had it at Lake Como. There is a good hotel

here, but one might well dispense in such places with men–waiters,

black coats, and white ties. From the garden of the hotel, an excellent

view is had of the entrance to the pass. Here we rested two and a half

hours, and then drove on to Coire by the banks of the Rhine, looking up

to the lofty mountains with their snowy tops, and across a well–wooded

landscape. At Coire there is a railway to Zurich, by which we had

intended to proceed; but, arranging with the driver, he took us on to

Ragatz, about two hours farther, where we arrived at half–past five,

the last half hour being in a thunderstorm. It had been down hill

the whole way since we left Splugen in the morning, and the horses,

notwithstanding the fatigues of the preceding day, went briskly along,

and apparently returned next morning; for it is not the habit of the

owners of these Swiss conveyances, if they can help it, to give their

horses a day’s rest after excessive fatigue. We enjoyed our three days’

drive amazingly, through scenery alternately grand, wild and desolate,

or beautiful and romantic. A more pleasant excursion could not be

planned; but to be enjoyed, it requires to be taken in the way we did.

One has not the same freedom in travelling by diligence, and besides it

goes on night and day, and passes through the best of the scenery in

the dark.

* * * * *

Ragatz lies a little beyond the range of the usual tourists’ track, and

we had not ourselves visited it before. It is very charmingly situated,

at the entrance of the Gorge of Pfäffers, in a valley up from that of

the Rhine flow, and hemmed in by high, bold mountains, which, from

the Ragatz side, look like immense walls, on whose higher slopes some

patches of snow were then visible. The village is small and spotlessly

clean, externally at least, and the Hotel Quellenhoff, a large new

comfortable house, has grounds attached to it which afford pleasant

retreats and walks. It is, however, a somewhat noisy establishment,

being one of those Continental watering–places where a band of music,

paid for by a daily tax on each visitor, plays morning and night to the

accompaniment of out–door drinking. We found the house full of Germans,

and having one or two distinguished visitors, among whom were the King

of Saxony and Count Arnim. In the public breakfast room we found one

morning four Germans smoking at a table—a disgusting piece of rudeness

which is sometimes experienced in Switzerland. In the grounds there

are a kursaal, where the band plays, a newsroom, and a book–seller’s

stall—all under one roof; and in another neat range of buildings, shops

for the sale of Swiss and other articles, a fountain flowing with

Pfäffers water, and baths of the same.

* * * * *

The walk up the Pfäffers Gorge is very interesting. Crossing a rustic

wooden bridge over a deep rapid torrent, not very wide, however, the

road at once begins to lead into a confined valley, the rocks or hills

on either side rising steeply, and leaving room only for the river

and the road by its side, with an occasional widening. It is well

wooded all along, the pine trees affording shelter to some extent

from the sun when it penetrates, as it does in certain positions. The

seclusion is alluring, but it is not altogether free from danger. At

one place my daughter ran up a bank, and came flying back to say that

she had found a snake moving in the grass at her feet. An older person,

less observant, would in all likelihood have trod upon it.[44] As we

proceeded, the mountains seemed to rise higher and higher overhead;

and, about two and a half miles from Ragatz, the rocks approach still

closer, and a large hotel, seemingly very much out of place, greets the

eye. Here tickets are procured for entrance to the gorge itself. It is

effected through the hotel to a wooden gallery resting on a ledge cut

out of the rock, which impends at a by no means assuring acute angle

immediately overhead, and even some way beyond the shaky platform.

Looking down the abyss, the water is seen below flowing still and deep

and fast through the narrow cleft; and this cleft rises high, as we can

see the rocks appearing to all but touch above, while one side inclines

to the other with an apparent appalling desire to embrace. It looks as

if an earthquake had split up the rock, and as if another shock might

at once and for ever close it up again. It is a damp, gloomy sort of

cavern, till one reaches the part where the hot spring escapes from

the rocks, one half of it flowing into the river in a huge spout, and

the remainder being carried in a long pipe to Ragatz to supply the

baths there. We entered by a door into a cave in the rock, a distance

of probably 50 or 60 feet, pitch dark, hot, and vaporous, where we had

given us a little of the hot water to drink, not disagreeable to the

taste. Afraid of chill, we left in time to get back to Ragatz ere the

road should be in shade.

* * * * *

We should have stayed at Ragatz with pleasure for at least a week,

but, expecting letters at Lucerne, remained only three nights. Leaving

the hotel at half–past eight, we had a tedious journey, as we did not

arrive at Lucerne (only about 76 miles distant by rail) till four

o’clock, the railway passing through a very pretty country, well wooded

and watered, stopping at every station by the way, and for an hour at

the town of Zurich. Leaving in sunshine, we were again unfortunate

enough to arrive at Lucerne in heavy rain, which, with previous falls,

had caused the lake to overflow its banks.

We spent three nights at Lucerne, and had rain great part of the time.

We were fortunate, however, to obtain, on the Tuesday, a charming

sunny day to cross the lake and proceed by diligence to Interlachen by

the Brunig Pass. The steamboat left the quay at Lucerne at 10.10 for

Alpnacht, and we did not get to Interlachen till about 8 P.M., having

had, however, two long halts by the way to enable the passengers to

dine or obtain refreshment and to rest the horses. We had the interior

of the diligence to ourselves, and, though objecting at first to

the closeness, it afforded cover from the sun, then in full power.

The other passengers were accommodated in other and open carriages.

The sail and drive are both beautiful; the sunset upon the Jungfrau

awaiting our arrival was one of the finest we enjoyed while at

Interlachen, tinting the snow with a shining glow of bright red light,

which gradually left the lower parts till the shade ascended to the

summit; and then the whole mountain was as if dead, but it shortly

after returned to life in the like ruddy hue of the after–glow,—a

beautiful effect we did not often afterwards witness.

* * * * *

We had several times visited Interlachen before. It was at this time

very empty. We had arrived in the German season, and there were few

but Germans there. The English do not generally begin to come to

Switzerland until the middle or end of July, when Interlachen becomes

crowded, and it is difficult to secure good accommodation. We found

little change in the place since we were last there (five years

previously), but the prices of the Swiss carvings on wood exhibited in

the shops had risen very considerably.

Interlachen, with which we had many associations, is a charming spot at

which to remain for some time, and I arranged for my family to stay at

the Jungfrau Hotel _en pension_, which they did for above two months,

and during part of this time I went home on a flying visit. It is an

admirable centre for excursions, while the place itself is, especially

in the height of the season, exceedingly attractive. The hotels are for

the most part situated on the north side of the high road conducting in

one direction to Thun and Berne, and in the other to Brienz, Meyringen,

and Lucerne, always full of life. Though the hotels are large, they

retreat from the road, and have not the towny look which large hotels

generally have. The trees, and the flowers, and the pretty chalets,

and the wood–carving shops, and the background of mountains—all confer

a rustic look, as seen from the highway, which is greatly enhanced

by the large open field so properly kept open upon the south side of

the road, lined by fine old trees, between which one catches sight

of the picturesque church and the equally picturesque houses at some

distance, and behind them the ranges of green mountains and the conical

tree–covered hill called the Jungfraublick; but beyond all, the grand

view of the majestic snow–clad Jungfrau itself, fifteen miles off, seen

at the termination of the magnificent vista afforded by the gap in

the mountains which lie between it and Interlachen; by a road through

which Grindelwald, Lauterbrunnen, the Wengern Alp, and the Murren are

reached—all glorious excursions.

Then there are the Lakes of Thun and Brienz, both affording delightful

steamboat trips, and in the locality round about innumerable walks.

However, like most places among the mountains, great changes in the

weather often take place, and frequent thunderstorms with drenching

rain, intermingled with glowing hot days, are experienced. We had a

fair share of both.

* * * * *

When I thought to make a run to Scotland, I found that leaving by a

train to Berne at 9.50 A.M., and proceeding by Neufchatel and Dijon,

I could get to Paris by 5.35 next morning, stopping two hours by the

way at Berne. On the return journey, leaving Paris at 7.40 evening,

I did not get to Interlachen till near dinner–time next day, being

compelled to spend four hours again at Berne. These stoppages are

annoying to those who have been at Berne before, and, as a train leaves

just immediately antecedent to the arrival of the train from the north,

they might at least in that case easily be avoided. But probably the

intention is to compel a short stay at Berne.

* * * * *

We had heard Chateau d’Œx highly spoken of as a pleasant, cool retreat,

where we might be invigorated by Highland breezes for the coming winter.

Having engaged a carriage for this rather long drive, we left

Interlachen on 28th August about 7.30 A.M., and had a splendid but

cruelly hot day. The distance, I should imagine, might possibly be

fifty miles, if so much; for certainly we did not go on an average at

a greater speed than five miles per hour,—considerable part of the way

being indeed just crawling up the hill. After leaving Interlachen by

the south bank of Lake Thun, we soon got into the shade of the hill,

and it was chilly, causing all wraps to be in requisition. Reaching

high ground over Spiez, we took our last view of Interlachen in the

distance, with the smoke of morning fires hanging over it. From this

point the road lay in a long valley between two ranges of hills, which,

after those we had been so long looking upon, did not appear high.

Everything was now in bright sunshine, and the valley and the slopes

were so verdant and luxuriant as to make the drive lovely, though

scarcely, except at one or two parts, could it be called grand. We

passed many little villages, all looking so sleepy in the sun, but

evidently prosperous. Soon after twelve we stopped at the little town

of Boltigen, to rest the horses for two hours and dine at the hotel

with the sign, life–size, of the gilded bear, kept by a pleasant young

woman, who strove to make us comfortable. The road after Boltigen

was still up hill till we reached a point whence descent is made to

Sarnen, the centre of the famous Gruyère cheese district, and soon

after we came in sight of Chateau d’Œx, with its picturesque church,

formerly a castle, on the top of an isolated conical hill, from which

the small town takes its name. This chateau or church at once arrests

the eye, and gives character to the place; but the town itself lies

at the foot of the eminence, and is 3260 feet above the sea. Bold

mountains, well wooded, rise on every side, and are probably, some of

them, 5000 or 6000 feet high—all contributing to fill a considerable

river in the valley a good way below. There are several hotels in

the town, and chalet pensions on the slopes above, the pension in

all being amazingly moderate, somewhat upon the scale which formerly

prevailed throughout Switzerland. The Hotel Berthod, at which we

stopped, accommodates about eighty people, and is built of wood, the

appointments being somewhat rough, though clean. The season is short,

but the hotel is for part of the time full. As it is so much out of the

beaten track, the society is probably more select than it sometimes is

in other parts of Switzerland. For the active, there are abundance of

nice walks in the immediate neighbourhood. The air, though in day–time

hot, was invigorating; but as we were getting near the end of the

season, it had a tendency at night at this elevation to get cold. We

therefore only spent eight days there, though very pleasantly.

* * * * *

On leaving Chateau d’Œx, we took the diligence to the pretty large

town of Aigle, and to reach it had slowly to ascend the mountains to

an altitude of between 5000 and 6000 feet. It was a most charming ride

or walk, and I got out and walked several miles ahead of the lumbering

conveyance. The descent from the summit of the pass continues to

Sepey, a village where we halted for lunch, and said to be another

charming centre, with pension upon the same moderate scale as we had

just experienced. The views here were very fine, but the place itself

did not strike me as so desirable as Chateau d’Œx, although it has the

advantage of being more accessible. From Sepey we descended to Aigle,

where there is a large hotel or hydropathic establishment just out of

the town. The diligence deposited us at the railway station nearly an

hour previous to the train to Montreux on the Lake of Geneva being due.

From its comparatively sheltered situation, Montreux is much frequented

during winter months, and it is a little warmer than Geneva or

Lausanne; but during part of the winter the temperature of Montreux is,

I believe, lower than that of London and Edinburgh, so that possibly

it may therefore not be suitable as a winter resort for those having

delicate constitutions. The picturesque and interesting Castle of

Chillon lies about two miles off, nearer the upper end of the lake.

Our bedroom windows commanded the view of the lake, together with the

Dent du Midi in the distance, so that the prospect was always pleasing.

Montreux is rather too much of a town, and the walls and houses shut

out almost completely the sight of the lake from the road or street.

The adjoining town of Clarens, nearly united to it, appears to be, on

the whole, nicer for summer residence.

After being at Montreux for a few days, we left by the steamboat, and

had a lovely sail to Geneva, where, in the afternoon, just before

dinner, we obtained a good glimpse of Mont Blanc in the distance

unveiled. Besting one night, we proceeded to Lyons by train next day,

and were once more in France.