Rambles among the Alps

Front matter

Chap.^... Copyright No.„_._„_

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

A SERIES OF NARRATIVES, DIALOGUES, BIOGRAPHIES, AND TALES, FOR THE INSTRUCTION AND ENTERTAINMENT OF THE YOUNG.

Contents

LETTER PAGE

I. THE LITTLE SAVOYARDS AND THEIR GOATS 13

II. UP TO CHAMOUNY 26

Letter II. Up To Chamouny

Vale of Chamouny, Friday, Aug. 17.

Chamouny, where I am now writing, is one of the most celebrated valleys of the Alps. It lies, in the first place, very high. To get to it, we have to ascend roads so steep that large carriages can not go. Indeed, the valley is so high, and it lies so surrounded with craggy peaks, and glaciers, and mountains of snow, that it was a long time before it was known at all to the rest of the world that there was any such valley there ; and long after it was known, the way that led to it was a path so rough, and steep, and narrow, and rocky, that very few people ever went up to it.

The way to Chamouny from Cluses, where I wrote my last letter, lies through the narrow gorge between the mountains, which I have already described as opening up the valley from very near

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

The baths of St. Gervais. Sallenches. The small carriages.

the hotel. I had heard that the valley widened again farther up, and that at one place there was a branch valley, or rather deep ravine, which penetrated in among the mountains to a spot where there were natural springs of hot water, which possessed medicinal qualities ; and that there was a large hotel there, and a great deal of company, consisting of persons who came there to drink the water for their health, and to bathe in it. The name of this place is the Baths of St. Gervais.

I was desirous to see how a large hotel and a great concourse of company would seem in such a wild place among the mountains, and so I determined to stop there one night, at least, on the way.

There was also quite a large town in an open part of the valley before coining to St. Gervais, which I was also desirous to see. The name of this place is Sallenches. Sallenches is the place where the good road comes to an end in going to Chamouny, and the steep part of it begins. There the diligence stops, and the travelers take small carriages, like little covered wagons, for the rest of the way.

These little carriages are of very curious forms and fashions, and there is a great variety of them. Almost every one that you see is different from the rest, but they are all very peculiar, and entirely different from any thing to be seen in other parts of the world.

The diligences, too, are peculiar. They are very large and exceedingly well made. They contain four compartments, and in this respect they are like the diligences of France ; but they differ

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

Some account of the different carriages. The char a banc comes to the door.

from these last in being made in such a manner that the tops of all the compartments but one will turn down, like the top of a barouche, and thus leave the seats all open to the sky, so that the company of travelers can have an unobstructed view of the mountains around them as they ride along.

In the French diligences the compartments are closed at the top, and the baggage is placed above. You will find a picture of one of these diligences in The Museum Story-book. These Swiss diligences being made to open at the top, some other place, it is plain, must be contrived for the baggage ; so they have made a sort of long box for it underneath the coach, and there it rides very safely, serving for ballast, also, in the mean time, to prevent the diligence from upsetting. This is quite an important advantage on these dangerous mountain roads.

We thought that we would go to Sallenches in a carriage of our own, so I asked the servant-girl to engage me one. When the carriage came to the door, I found it was of the kind called a char a banc. This is a very common kind of carriage in Switzerland, but I believe it is not made in any other part of the world. The door is in one side of it, and the seat is on the other side, so that in riding you go sideways. Some people describe it by saying that it is a short sofa placed on wheels, covered with a top, and drawn along endwise. Others say that it is like a very short and very small omnibus, with a seat only on one side, and the door on the other. But I think that Mr. Doepler can give you a better idea of it than any description would afford, so I shall ask him to make a drawing of it to be inserted here.

Picture of the char a banc. Inconvenience of it.

THE CHAR A BANC.

The char a banc is certainly a very funny carriage, and I should think that a party of children might enjoy a ride in one exceedingly. But we did not like it very well. In the first place, it is not pleasant to ride sideways ; then the top of our char a Tbanc was so low, that we had to put our heads out in the most awkward and inconvenient way, to see the cliffs and summits of the mountains — they were so high, and the top of the carriage was so low.

We went on, however, up the valley, and enjoyed the ride very

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

Impressive aspect of the mountains. Stone bridge leading to Sallenches.

much indeed. It was quite impressive to look up to the summit of the mountains that overhung our heads, and see the green fields and pretty farm-houses away up in the sky, and higher still the craggy rocks towering above them, with tall trees on the summits, dwindled in the distance to so small a size that we could scarce discern them.

At length the valley widened, and we came to a place where there was quite a broad expanse of beautiful and fertile country below, though it was bordered by the same stupendous mountains on either side. In some places the cultivated land extended high up the side of the mountains, and the view of it was as if half the sky was laid out into green fields and smiling pastures, with forests and cliffs of rocks above. At other places, the mountain land rose suddenly from the level plain in perpendicular precipices thousands of feet high, with broad slopes of cultivated land above, which ascended till they were lost among the fleecy clouds of the sky.

At last we came to a place where there was a stone bridge, which led across the river to the town of Sallenches, on the other side. In turning to cross the bridge we came into view of an immense mass of snowy mountains, which were seen through the opening of the valley above us. The highest summit of these mountains was Mont Blanc. The whole range was covered with immense fields of snow, that glistened in the evening sun, and looked as cold and wintry as if it were January there, while yet the sun was shining so warm in the valley where we were that we suffered from the heat, even though we were well shaded by the carriage top.

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

View of the sides of the mountains from the windows of the inn.

We spent the night at Sallenches. From the window of our room at the inn we had a full view of the snowy peaks, and also of the immense, slopes of green and cultivated land on the sides of the lower mountains that were nearer to us. Directly opposite the inn, for example, about a mile from us across the valley, there was one vast mountain side spread out before us, with pastures, groves, forests, fields, villages, and hamlets rising one above another to the clouds. With the glass we could examine every thing in the most minute detail. We could see the men and the women going in and out at the cottage doors ; we could see the zigzag paths leading up and down, with the boys ascending and descending, and driving goats or cows before them. It was as if a belt of land near where you live, in America, two miles wide and three or four miles long, were to be lifted up on its edge, as it were, before you, so that you could survey it all from your chamber window, and, with a spy-glass, examine every thing that it contains. Such a supposition as that will give you some idea of the views of scenery we have among the Alps, when looking at the slopes of the lower mountains. Then, if you suppose a range of immense precipices of gray rocks, with here and there a group of tall pinnacles rising above them, to be placed at the upper edge of the landscape so displayed to your view, and, finally, above and beyond all, a group of mountain summits formed wholly of ice and snow, you will have quite a correct conception of Swiss scenery.

From Sallenches to the Baths of St. Gervais the distance is not very great, and there was a sort of omnibus that went and returned every day, so we went in the omnibus. We took care,

UP TO CI1AMOUNY.

Advance up the valley. Situation of the Baths of St. Gervais.

however, to get up upon the top of it, so that we could have an uninterrupted view of the scenery.

We rode along the open valley for an hour or two, in a narrow road which led through green and pretty fields, until at length we crossed a torrent, and then turned in toward the mountains, and entered a deep ravine. The torrent which we had crossed came out Iby this ravine. It was very narrow, and the sides of it were very steep and high, and they were covered with forests of firs, which gave to the scene a very shaded and secluded aspect. The ground, however, that formed the bottom of the valley was smooth and beautiful. It was laid out like a park, with a pretty, winding road along the bank of the torrent in the middle of it, and walks under the trees on each side, and little bridges and seats, and steps leading up the declivities, seen here and there through openings in the foliage.

We passed by several buildings that were situated very prettily along the banks of the stream, and at last we came to the hotel. The hotel was at the very head of the ravine, and the steep sides of the mountain, covered with forests, rose abruptly all around it and shut it closely in. The form and arrangement of the buildings was very peculiar. You see a picture of them on the next page. There is a great building in the centre, which extends across the valley, and two long wings, like pavilions, extending forward on each side. There are also two other long wings running back, which are not seen in the engraving, and another range of edifices extending across in the rear, so that the whole establishment covers a great deal of ground.

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

Arrangements and accommodations. Amusements for the guests. The balancer.

It also contains a great many conveniences of various kinds for the accommodation and amusement of the guests. There is a large parlor in one of the wings, where the company spend their evenings. Besides this, there are several rooms fitted up for different sorts of games, and piazzas to walk in, and balconies to sit in, and a library-room filled with books, and a long dining-room where the tables were set for all the company together. There is also, in the rear of the hotel, a long range of buildings in the inner court, used for bath-rooms, with pumps that are all the while pumping up water into them. The pumps are worked by a water-wheel that is turned by the torrent, which runs in a channel made for it below.

In front of the hotel we saw, as we approached it, a number of donkeys standing, ready saddled and bridled, for ladies and gentlemen w r ho might wish to ascend the paths that lead up the sides of the ravine, or go out into the open valley below. Some were coming and going on these donkeys. Children were playing about the court-yards too. Some were trundling hoops, some drawing little wagons about, and some swinging in the great swings that you see on the left hand in the engraving. The French children call a swing a balancer.*

We liked this place so much that we staid a day here. I talked with some of the French children on the piazzas, and showed them a French picture-book which I had in my knapsack. It amused me to hear these children talk to each other in French about the pictures. One of them was learning English, and she * The French word is balangoir.

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

Zigzag paths. Village above. The little refreshment-room.

talked a little with me. She had an English nurse who was teaching her.

We also ascended one of the zigzag paths which led up out of the ravine to the country above. It took half an hour for us to go up. It was as steep all the way as we could climb. On the way we saw the torrent that comes in at the head of the ravine, falling down over the rocks in the middle of an awful chasm, where it would be impossible for any one to go.

When we got half way up the ascent, we met some girls standing in the path talking. We asked them if we were in the right road to go to the village. The village is above, on the brink of the ravine. They said yes, and one of them said, moreover, that she was going up, and that she would show us the way.

After a time we reached the top, and there we found an open country and a village. We went into a little summer-house which we came to, where they kept refreshments for sale, and we had a bottle of what they call foaming lemonade. It is lemonade corked up tight in bottles, and so made that it foams like sodawater when you pour it out. It makes a very refreshing drink, especially for persons who have been toiling for half an hour up a zigzag path as steep almost as a staircase leading up into a steeple.

When we came down to the baths again, we engaged a carriage to take us the next day up to Chamouny. The distance was about twelve miles, and most of the way up steep hills. We would not have a char a banc any more, because we wished to see the country, so we engaged what the man called a calash. It was

We leave the baths in a calash. Ride up the valley.

a sort of "barouche. There were two horses. You can see us setting off in it on our journey in the engraving of the inn.

We first came down the little road leading out of the ravine, and then turned up the great valley. We crossed the torrent of the Arve by a very wild-looking bridge. On each side of the river, for nearly a quarter of a mile, the ground was covered with big stones that had been brought down by the inundations of the river, so that in this part of its course the waters were flowing through a scene of desolation which they themselves had made. After crossing the river, we began to ascend the valley. The road turned, and began to wind obliquely up the mountain side. It went up, up, up, continually. All the way we had splendid views of the valley, and the scenery was on so grand a scale that for many hours we could look back upon our whole road, from the very beginning of it, where it issued from the gorge of the baths. We could see the little village of St. Gervais on the brink above, and all the stupendous mountains that towered around it on every side.

Still we went up, up, up, twisting and twining around peaks and ravines, and traversing, sometimes dark forests, and sometimes smooth and fruitful fields, but always with lofty mountains on one side and the deep valley on the other. On the mountain side we passed continually the dry beds of torrents, and sometimes living streams. These last came tumbling down over the cliffs and precipices, far above our heads, in immense cascades, and then ran roaring and foaming across our path in a straight channel walled in for them ; for in all this region it is the custom to wall in

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

Prospects. Walling in the torrents. Disappearing of a lake.

the streams that come down the mountains when they approach the level land, in order to prevent the devastations which they would otherwise occasion when the snows melt in the spring. At such times the torrents bring down immense quantities of mud and stones, which, if the water was not confined by these walls, they would spread over all the adjoining fields, and spoil the cultivation of them.

There was one place where there was once a very pretty little lake, lying in a hollow on the mountain side, near where the road passed along. This lake was situated at a place where the chain of Mont Blanc, with all the snow-covered summits around him, were in full view on the other side of the valley, and they were in such a direction in relation to the lake that, by standing in a certain position on the shores of it, an observer could see all those lofty domes of snow reflected in the water ; and travelers in former times used to stop here, and get out of their carriages, and walk along on the shore of the lake until they reached the right spot for seeing the reflection. But all this is now gone, for there came down one spring, not very long ago, such an immense quantity of mud, stones, and gravel, in consequence of a great rain on the mountains, that the lake w T as filled up entirely ; and when we came by it there was nothing to be seen but a great expanse of stones and gravel, with a small stream flowing quietly through the centre of it, wholly unconscious of the mischief it had done.

The stream, however, is not to be condemned for this mischief, since the ultimate end w T hich it is aiming at by its action is a very good one, and in process of time this end will surely be accom-

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

We continue ascending. The raspberries and cream. Beggars.

plished. Having first filled up the lake with stones and gravel, it will now gradually, in future inundations, spread a fine sediment over the surface of it, which, in process of time, will make good soil ; and so, in the end, there may be, where the lake once stood, a tract, forming a smooth and fruitful field, the product of which will nourish a whole family of mountaineers.

Still up, up, up, higher and higher, until at last we came to a village, where the coachman stopped to rest his horses and to give them something to eat. There was a queer-looking inn there. We went in to see how it appeared inside. We found some raspberries on a table, and so we had some raspberries and milk.

We finished the raspberries and milk before the horses had half eaten their grain, and so we went to take a walk. We saw some children, and we gave them bonbons that we had in our pockets. We had bought a quantity of bonbons in Geneva, so as to have them ready for this purpose.

There were beggars too, who came to our carriage when at last the horses were ready, and waited there till we got in, and then held out their caps to beg. It is very difficult to determine whether it is best to give these beggars any money or not. They look very poor and miserable, and one pities them very much indeed. But if every body gives them a little money, they get a great deal, and that tends to make other people think it is better to beg than to work, and thus to increase the begging and diminish industry.

There are a great many beggars in Switzerland, and some of them are very importunate. Once there was a foolish-looking old man, who came hobbling up to the side of the diligence, and held

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

Manners and customs of the beggars. Some of them bring flowers.

out his cap for me to give him something. I felt in my pockets, and found that I had no change except one little copper coin which was of very small value, so I took that and tossed it down into his cap. He did not thank me at all till he first looked into his cap to see what he had got. He fumbled for the coin very eagerly, and held it up to his eyes, and then, as soon as he saw what he had got, he made up a dreadful face at me.

It is true, the value of the coin was only the fifth part of a cent, so I did not blame him much for making a face.

Sometimes children, when they see you walking, stop by the road-side till you come along, and then, putting on a very mournful face, and speaking in a very whining tone, they ask you if you will not have the kindness to give them " a little something."

At other times, when they see you coming, they run and gather a few flowers, and then stand ready and present them to you with many smiles and looks of good- will ; but they expect, if you take the flowers, that you will give them something in return.

Others will offer to go and show you the way where they think you are going ; and if you tell them that you do not wish them to go, that you know the way yourself, or that you are not going to that place at all, still they run on and pretend to direct you.

Last evening I went out to take a little walk down the valley. J ust as I was entering a forest, a boy came up, and, accosting me in a very polite manner, asked if I would like to have him guide me to the cascade.

It seems there was a celebrated cascade, called the Cascade of the Pilgrims, about half a mile or a mile beyond.

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

Account of a walk toward the Cascade of the Pilgrims.

" No," said I, " we are not going to the cascade. We are only going to take a little walk in the forest."

46 Ah, but you will get lost in the forest, I am afraid," said he. "It is a very dangerous place to get lost in."

"Oh no," said I; "I am accustomed to forests. I am an American. In America we have immense forests, a great deal larger than this. I am not at all afraid."

So I took one of several paths that led into the wood, but the boy followed me, saying that that was a very bad path, and that it led to very bad and dangerous places, and I had better not go there.

I told him that I was very glad to hear that, for the bad and dangerous places were just what I came to Switzerland to see.

So I went on. Still he followed. I told him he might go with us just as far as he pleased, but that I certainly should not give him any money.

Then he went back and left us to ourselves.

But to return to our journey to Chamouny. After leaving the inn, we went on continually ascending, in the midst of scenery growing every moment more and more grand and wild. The road was very steep indeed — so steep in some places that it was quite difficult for the horses to draw us up. It was very rough too, being paved with big and shapeless stones, and very narrow, so that when we met other mountain carriages coming we had to crowd in under the cliff, or go out carefully to the brink of the precipice, and stop there while the other carriage went by.

In one narrow place in the valley, where the face of the mount-

UP TO CHAMOUNY.

The boy with the trumpet. Old man. We enter the Vale of Chamouny at last.

am on the other side consisted of an immense perpendicular wall of rock a thousand feet high, a boy stood by the road-side with a sort of trumpet which he was going to blow to let us hear the echo. So, when we came to the spot, he blew a loud blast, and then, after a short pause, the music all came back to us, softened and subdued in tone, but very audible. The wave of sound had gone across the valley, and had then been reflected back from the side of the mountain, and so had returned to us again.

Presently, in a very steep, and wild, and dangerous place, entirely solitary, we saw an old man by the road-side, and when we came by he held out his cap to beg. I pitied him, because he looked so old and forlorn, and I gave him a little money. I wondered where he lived, as there was no house in sight, nor indeed any place for one. The country around presented nothing to view but crags, and precipices, and roaring torrents, and it seemed too desolate and wild almost for even the bears to live in. Presently I came to a place where there was a great cleft in the rock by the road-side, and it was here the old man lived, at least during the daytime. He had a little roof over the place, and a seat inside, so that he could sit down when he was in there waiting for carriages to come along. Where he went to at night I do not know.

We went on some mile3 farther, all the time ascending higher and higher, until at length there opened before us a pretty wide and very beautiful valley, with snow-capped mountains all around it, and great glaciers streaming down from the snowy regions above into the midst of green fields below. This was the valley

MONT BLANC.

Account of Chamouny. General character of the village.

of Chamouny. The village was in the centre of it, lying very prettily embosomed in the midst of green and fruitful fields. We now drove on rapidly, and in half an hour reached the village, and took up our quarters at the inn.

I shall tell you what sort of a place Chamouny is in my next letter.

Letter III. Mont Blanc

Chamouny, Aug. 18.

Chamouny is a very remarkable place. It is a village that consists almost altogether of great hotels. Besides the hotels, there are a few little shops for the sale of curiosities and souvenirs of Mont Blanc to the visitors, and some pretty little gardens and summer-houses belonging to the hotels ; and then fifty or one hundred rude stone houses, or rather cabins, where the mules live that carry the tourists up the mountains, and also the men and women who take care of them — and that is all.

In other words, Chamouny is a village which is devoted wholly to the business of exhibiting Mont Blanc, and the other mountains around him, to the throngs of visitors that come every year from various parts of the world to visit the mighty monarch. There is a raging torrent of turbid water from the glaciers flowing through the town, but there are almost literally no streets. The people seem to have built their houses confusedly every where, leaving the carriages to find their way through them as they can.

MONT BLANC.

Views of Mont Blanc. v Occupations of the people. Morning. Evening.

There are, however, some open spaces before and around the hotels, in the centre of the village, which might, perhaps, be called places or squares if they were not so small. Some are on one side of the river and some on the other, with a bridge connecting them. Then there are little gardens, and terraces, and pavilions, and other pleasant places near the hotels, where people sit and view the surrounding mountains, or, with the spy-glasses that are set up there, watch the tourists who are ascending or descending Mont Blanc, when ascensions are made.

The open spaces which I have mentioned are very quiet and still in the middle of the day, but in the mornings and evenings they are full of movement and bustle. In the morning, great numbers of guides stand about ready to be hired, or waiting for the gentlemen and ladies to come who have hired them. Groups of mules are seen at the doors, some saddled and bridled for rides, and others standing patiently by while the guides and porters are loading their backs with a pile of trunks and carpet-bags. Every body is planning excursions ; nothing else is talked of or thought of. In the evening we have the reverse of the picture ; then every body is coming home. Trains of mules are arriving, bringing in ladies and gentlemen who have been up to the Sea of Ice, or to the Flegere, or the Brevent, or who have just arrived from the north by the pass of old Black Head. All is movement and bustle. Every body is telling what he has done to-day or what he is going to do to-morrow. The ladies are recounting their adventures, and describing the steep and rocky paths they have come down upon their mules, and the awful precipices which they have crept along