The parts of Switzerland that are capable of cultivation seem to be
even more fertile than the parts of France that we have passed
through. Both the hay and grain crops are heavier, at least this
year, and the vine thrives marvellously on the hillsides of this
beautiful and romantic land. For beautiful it is and romantic, this
land of bright-blue skies, and snow-capped mountains, and leaping
cataracts, and sylvan glades, and smiling valleys.
We spent Sunday at Geneva, and stayed two or three hours at Berne
Monday on our way to Interlaken. Berne is the national capital. Its
most notable buildings are the Federal House of Parliament and the
Lutheran Cathedral. The latter dates from the beginning of the 15th
century, and to this day bears about it tokens of the Faith that
first set it up. Berne is the German word for "bear." The city
takes its name "de bellua caesa," as an old monument bears witness,
from a bear having been slain on the site where it stands. Thence
the bear is the emblem and heraldic decoration of the Swiss capital.
You can't turn in any direction without running across the figure of
a bear. The poor beast is drawn in every conceivable shape and
tortured into every conceivable attitude. One is reminded of the
fable of the Lion and the Man, as told by Newman. There are bears
couchant, bears passant, and bears regardant. There are old bears
and young bears, big bears and little bears, bears climbing trees,
bears standing on their hind legs, bears hugging each other, and
bears making faces at each other. And to crown all, the city
maintains four huge live bears and several young ones in an enclosure
about twelve feet below the level of the ground. They are shown to
every visitor who crosses the stone bridge that spans the Aar river,
on the banks of which Berne stands.
Interlaken, as the name implies, is situated between two lakes. It
is an ideal summer resort, a very paradise of tourists. It is hemmed
in by mountains on every side. On the east, Jungfrau lifts her snowy
summit to the skies. Jungfrau (pronounced yungfrau) is German for
virgin. And a tall virgin she is, this Maiden of the Snows, ever
holding her head erect some 13,000 feet above the level of the sea.
She always wears her white mantle, and for apron a great glacier. On
the evening of our arrival she had on a cap of cloud, and some time
during the night further shrouded herself in a veil of mist. Nor
would she lift it as we went away, eager though we were to catch a
glimpse of her morning face.
Between Interlaken and Lucerne the scenery is uninterruptedly grand.
Mountain, lake, and Alpine river quickly succeed one another, but
without sameness. The most remarkable feature of this route is the
over-mountain railway. The train climbs an Alpine hill from 1,200 to
1,500 feet in height, and makes its way down on the other side. Our
train was divided into three sections, each section of which was
pulled by a powerful locomotive. The wheels revolve on cogs set in
the rails. At one time the train is on the very edge of a precipice,
with a sheer descent of several hundred feet; at another, an
overhanging cliff threatens to fall down on top of it and smash it
into atoms. Now it seems to be on the verge of dropping into a lake
hundreds of feet below; the next moment the dense Alpine forests
hides even the heavens from one's view. It is a thrilling
experience, and one feels a sense of relief once it is fairly over.
* * *