PARIS, _June 30, 1854_.
I find myself once again in the bustle and activity of this great city,
after my return from Italy and Switzerland. My last communication
was from Turin. The railroad to Suza, recently opened, brought me to
the foot of the Alps, where the diligence, with its ten mules, was
in readiness to ascend Mount Cenis, whose lofty crest was buried in
snow. The rich and luxuriant growth of the valley is gradually lost as
the dwarfish and stunted trees appear; the cold winds from the frozen
surface and the absence of vegetation prove that the summit is nearly
reached, and the traveller rejoices in the descent to the verdant and
smiling valleys of Savoy. The macadamized, winding, and zigzag roads
upon the borders of frightful precipices are, however, well provided
with parapet walls, and tall poles or landmarks indicate the route
when it is blocked with snow. The Government has also constructed,
at intervals, one-story cottages, with roofs and bare walls, as a
temporary refuge for benighted travellers. The passage at this season
of the year is comparatively easy, and unlike what I had to contend
with in crossing the St. Bernard, some years since, during the same
month, upon mule-back, wading through snowbanks in the mountain gorges
twenty feet in depth. The scenery is less grand and majestic than that
of the Simplon, or great road of Napoleon, which I once passed in the
month of October, upon jumpers made of hoop poles, and drawn by a
single horse, for one person alone, under constant dread of avalanches
and mountain torrents.
A seventy-four hours’ ride brought me to Chamberry, and thence three
leagues further to Aix, celebrated for its baths from the time of
the Romans, some of whose monuments are still found. It is situated
in a beautiful valley, between a double chain of mountains, with
most picturesque eminences, bordered by the Lake Bourget, some
twelve miles in length. This pleasant little town, with a Savoyard
population of three thousand, derives its principal support from
the influx of strangers during the bathing season. Almost all its
inhabitants--loungers, doctors, &c.--draw a portion of their revenue
from the rent of their dwellings.
From its position between France, Italy, and Switzerland, it is a
convenient and agreeable place for invalids. The waters are of iron and
sulphur, and the supply is more abundant than any I had ever seen, and
of a high temperature. The quantity discharged from the rock into the
Royal Bathing Establishment, which is situated against the sidehill,
is sufficient to turn an ordinary mill-wheel. The building, a handsome
structure, is composed of four divisions, comprising thirty-six
pieces. Here are found swimming and simple, as also vapor baths;
shower, vertical, and oblique douches; with the volume and force of the
shock required, or all the shades and varieties possible. There are
also two dark underground rooms, whose high temperature of sulphur has
given them the name of Division d’Enfer, or Hell Division; there is one
for females as well as males. Two streams of hot sulphur water break
upon the place, while clouds of steam make the atmosphere suffocating.
While the invalid is in this he receives the shower-bath, which must
produce an active effect. All the employees of the establishment are in
uniform, and, when there are many visitors, they have full employment.
The alum-water is most used for drinking, it being less heavy for the
stomach than the sulphur-water, and its odor less disagreeable.
The Douchers employed in the baths are said to be very clever in
their mode of friction, rubbing the limbs, and cracking the joints of
rheumatic patients. I had no occasion for them, however. I have not
yet forgotten the shampooing or vapor-bath at Constantinople, where
one is almost scalded, and every bone of the body seems to be broken;
then you are laid out in a winding sheet to be revived with coffee and
sherbet, and finish off with a chibouck, or Turkish pipe. These waters
and shady grounds being suggested as a relief for an eye-difficulty, I
was induced to make a sojourn of some ten days at this pleasant spot.
There are not the same attentions here as at Baden Baden and Wiesbaden.
The Casino, however, is a handsome edifice, with spacious grounds and
gardens, to which visitors subscribe, and have the privilege of a
reading-room, a café, and restaurant; a military band plays morning and
evening, and in the dancing and concert halls. The most corrupt places
are the public gambling-rooms, where are seen groups of both sexes
around the roulette tables, and the bankers with their little rakes in
hand drawing in or paying out; the glittering gold dazzles the eye of
the novices, and frequently induces them to stake their last Napoleon.
The government has farmed out this establishment, with the promise that
no officer of the crown, or citizen of the place shall be allowed to
gamble--a very excellent provision; but the influx of strangers keeps
up the traffic, and affords occupation for those who have a taste for
play. I arrived in season for the festival of the baths. The programme
was attractive, and calculated to draw a large assemblage from the
neighboring villages. The firing of cannon, ringing of bells, and
church service, the eating and drinking at the baths, made it a sort
of Fourth of July affair; it was succeeded by donkey races, closing
with an illumination under the tall elm and sycamore trees, with bands
of music, and the national dances of the peasant girls and boys in
their gay and picturesque costume. A display of fireworks added to
the enjoyment of this simple and happy people, who seemed to disperse
with reluctance. Rides upon the mountain, fishing, and excursions upon
the lake, make up the pleasurable employments of visitors. A lady and
gentleman, who came in company from Turin, joined me in an excursion
down the lake, to visit a convent containing the royal tombs of the
house of Savoy, which, with the chapel, are exquisitely wrought. The
intermittent spring was also visited; at intervals of ten or fifteen
minutes a rumbling noise is heard, and the rush of water (the volume
being the size of a man’s body) soon fills a natural basin, when it
gradually ceases, to be renewed after taking breath, as it were, from
exhaustion. We had embarked upon this placid lake, when a heavy squall
came up; the Lilliputian sea became agitated, and the little sail of
the frail bark fluttered in the wind; the lady went into hysterics!
The idea of being shipwrecked in that manner was ridiculous to me. We
made for the mountain shore, and, ensconced under the rocks, escaped
the driving rain, until it beat the little billows into subjection. The
fright was sufficient to draw forth a promise from the husband and wife
not to go sailing again this summer.
From Savoy I went into Switzerland; it was my third visit. I found
at Geneva many changes since I was last there: a portion of the old
rampart had been thrown down, and streets opened and built upon.
Beautiful as it then was, reposing gently upon the margin of the lake
whose name it bears, it is rendered more beautiful by the march of
improvement; new hotels are being added to those already existing. The
opening of railways in France has brought Geneva within twenty-eight
hours of Paris, which time will be shortened when other projects are
carried out. In visiting the principal of an institution at Geneva, I
found eight American boys from different parts of the Union. The little
fellows seemed quite delighted to meet with one who was from their
native land, and familiar with most of the localities they came from,
and, more than all, acquainted with some of their parents. They seemed
happy and contented, and under good discipline.
The country never looked better; the prospects of the farmer are
encouraging; the disease of the vine, which has made such havoc and
caused such loss in southern Europe with those whose only resource
is the production of wine, has not yet appeared, and strong hopes
are entertained that the vine will escape it. In sections of country
where for scores of miles the cultivation of the grape is as general
as Indian corn or wheat in our country, the failure and consequent
distress may very well be conceived.
I formerly described the chateau of Voltaire, and the few relics
remaining of that philosopher. It is situated at Ferney, a few miles
from Geneva, and is frequently visited by strangers. The present
proprietor has beautified the grounds and remodelled the edifice. He
was my travelling companion by the mail coach to Dijon, and amused and
interested me much with many anecdotes of this singular man, as well
as the remarks of visitors, strongly prejudiced for or against that
peculiar philosopher.
I am not yet decided what course I shall take from Paris, but you will
hear from me in due time.