Слике страница
PDF
ePub

renewed her lamentations. In the meantime, the unfortunate father, who, with much difficulty, had saved himself and two children, wandered about till daylight, when he came among the ruins to look for the rest of his family. He soon discovered his wife, by a foot which appeared above ground; she was dead, with a child in her arms. His cries, and the noise he made in digging, were heard by Marianna, who called out. She was extricated with a broken thigh, and saying that Francisca was not far off, a farther search led to her release also, but in such a state that her life was despaired of; she was blind for some days, and remained subject to convulsive fits of terror. It appeared that the house, or themselves at least, had been carried down about one thousand five hundred feet from where it stood before.

In another place, a child, two years old, was found unhurt, lying on its straw mattress upon the mud, without any vestige of the house from which he had been separated. Such a mass of earth and stones rushed at once into the Lake of Lowertz, although five miles distant, that one end of it was filled up, and a prodigious wave passing completely over the island of Jehwanau, seventy feet above the usual level of the water, overwhelmed the opposite shore, and as it returned, swept away into the lake many houses with their inhabitants. The village of Siewen, situated at the farther end, was inundated, and some houses washed away, and the flood carried live fish into the village of Steinen. The chapel of Olten, built of wood, was found half a league from the place it had previously occupied, and many large blocks of stone completely changed their position.

The most considerable of the villages overwhelmed in the vale of Arth, was Goldau, and its name is now affixed to the whole melancholy story and place. I shall relate only one more incident: A party of eleven travelers, from Berne, belonging to the most distinguished families there, arrived at Arth, on the second of September, and set off on foot for the Righi, a few minutes before the catastrophe. Seven of them had got about two hundred yards a-head-the other four saw them entering the village of Goldau, and one of the latter, Mr. R. Jenner, pointing out to the rest the summit of the Rossberg, (full four miles off in a straight line) where some strange commotion seemed taking place, which they, themselves, (the four behind) were observing with a telescope, and had entered into conversation on the subject, with some strangers just come up; when, all at once, a flight of stones, like cannon balls, traversed the air above their heads; a cloud of thick dust obscured the valley; a frightful noise was heard. They fled! As soon as the obscurity was so far dissipated as to make objects discernible, they sought their friends, but the village of Goldau had disappeared under a heap of stones and rubbish, one hundred feet in height, and the whole valley presented nothing but a perfect chaos! Of the unfortunate survivors, one lost a wife, to whom he was just married, one a son, a third the two pupils under his care. All researches to discover their remains, were, and have ever since been, fruitless. Nothing is left of Goldau, but the bell which hung in its steeple, and which was found about a mile off. With the rocks, torrents of mud came down, acting as rollers; but they took a different direction when in the valley, the mud following the slope of the ground toward the Lake of

Lowertz, while the rocks, preserving a straight course, glanced across the valley toward the Righi. The rocks above, moving much faster than those near the ground, went farther, and ascended even a great way up the Righi; its base is covered with large blocks, carried to an incredible height, and by which trees were mowed down as they might have been by cannon."

The people of Goldau are said to have possessed such interesting qualities of person and manners, such purity and simplicity of domestic life, as well corresponded with the loveliness of their native village, and its surrounding scenery. How strange and awful seems, under such circumstances, the transition from time into eternity!

CHAPTER II.

VALLEY of Chamouni--Swiss Peasantry-the Mer de Glace-Fate of a Danish TravelerIce Caverns-Alpine Oasis-Excursion to the Hospice of St. Bernard-Dogs of St. Bernard-Passage of Napoleon's Army-Benevolence of the Monks--the House of the Dead-Terrors of the Splugen Pass--De Saussure's Ascent of Mont Blanc-Magnificent Exhibition.

Ir was early one fine summer morning that Dr. J. P. Durbin and party, left Geneva for the far-famed vale of Chamouni, at the base of Mont Blanc. Their road followed the windings of the Arve, through a wild and picturesque country. In a few hours, the roughness of the road compelled them to change their carriage for a kind of settee, on wheels, called chars a banc. The scenery became more and more wild, and on all sides arose gigantic Alps, shrouded in mists, which occasionally partially dispersed, and disclosed their lofty pinnacles piercing the skies.

In the valley of the Arve, a few peasants' dwellings were occasionally passed. These were low stone cottages, surmounted by wooden attics, and with small windows barred with iron. Under their wide projecting eaves, were heaped piles of wood, and often large ovens were seen, where the bread of a whole neighborhood was baked semi-weekly, as is the custom of these regions. They saw women mowing in the fields, who wielded their scythes as easily, and cut as broad a swarth as the most expert men.

At Chamouni, they passed the succeeding day, in gazing at the beauty and the sublimity of the Alpine world-at the green fields of this charming vale, the sombre evergreen forests, at the bases of the mountains, the picturesque cottages and hamlets, above all which, rose, robed in eternal ice and snow, the lofty summits of giant mountains.

On the 7th of July, the party made an excursion to the "Mer de Glace," or sea of ice, an enormous glacier, situated far up the mountains. It is twenty-five miles long, and two and a half broad, and from the side of Mont Blanc, descends slopes and through ravines.

After breakfast they started on mules, proceeding along in single files, and accompanied by their guide, and a boy with iron-pointed ice-pikes. When half way to the glacier they turned to gaze back at the valley they had left, when they saw the fields of grain dwindled to the apparent size of the squares of a chess board, the dwellings to little toy houses, which the Arve

wound between like a little silver thread. On the opposite, and northern side of the valley, the mountains appeared to bound the world, for further on, all was sky, save where miles and miles distant, one gigantic Alp shot far up heavenward its pale blue crest.

An hour more, and they were partaking of rest and refreshment at a little pavilion in the mountain, and then again, in high spirits, started off on foot, with pikes in hand. But they had no idea of the difficulties before them. In places, they were obliged to edge along on narrow ledges of rock, scarce two inches wide, while above rose, for thousands of feet, lofty ledges of rock, and below, yawned deep and awful chasms. The "Mer de Glace" was at length reached; but instead of being a sea of smooth, hard ice, it was found to be mostly frozen slush. In spots it was solid ice, and in other places snow had filled up the chasms in its surface. It is frequently difficult to distinguish the solid ice from the treacherous snow. Once a Danish traveler, heedless of the warning of his guide, while on a glacier, slipped into a chasm, and was seen no more.

The chasms descend to great depths. The heat of the earth, and running water enlarges them at their bases into immense connecting caverns. On one occasion Professor Hugi, entered some of these caverns by the dried up bed of a rivulet, where he wandered about for hours, in places walking upright, and in others compelled to crawl through narrow fissures. Everywhere a faint light penetrated, and water continually dripped upon him from icicles. The celebrated Saussure, sunk shafts several hundred feet in depth into a glacier in a fruitless attempt to ascertain its thickness.

With four or five hours' more labor they came to a little Alpine oasis, which retained its verdure amid surrounding snow and ice, at an elevation of over 8,000 feet. Here the grass was green and soft, and wild flowers bloomed; these had been warmed into life by the rays of the sun, collected by encircling rocks, and then reflected and concentrated upon this little spot. Directly before them stood Mont Blanc, the giant of the Alps, its white, snowy head shooting far up into the blue sky. Between them and the mountain, and laying upon its side, was the "Mer de Glace," with its gaping chasms and pyramids of blue tinted ice. "Never," says Dr. Durbin, “had I such a conception of the wonderful power of God, as when standing in the midst of this Alpine world."

Having returned to Chamouni, the party, on the second morning, left for the celebrated Pass of the Great St. Bernard, elevated eight thousand feet above the level of the sea. The second day, they passed through Liddes, beyond which point vegetation disappeared; deep beds of snow were met with, and all around was enshrouded in wintery desolation. Continuing on, they passed by a plain wooden cross, and soon after, met two of the noble, and far-famed dogs of St. Bernard, who gazed at them with looks full of mildness and benevolence. At three o'clock that same afternoon, the summit of the pass was reached, and before them stood the object of their journey, the Hospice, the most lofty human habitation in all Europe.

Through the Pass of the Great St. Bernard, the Roman legions, two thousand years ago, used to defile while crossing the Alps, in their military

expeditions against the Gothic barbarians of the North. It is noted, in our times, by the famous passage of Napoleon's army of reserve, 60,000 strong, when on its way to the bloody field of Marengo. Their hundred pieces of artillery were placed in trees hollowed out, and each were drawn over the mountain steeps, by the united strength of a hundred soldiers.

On a level spot, on the summit of the Pass, stands the Hospice, founded at a very early period, for the comfort and safety of travelers, in their perilous passages over the mountains. In 962, it was re-established by St. Bernard, and has been continued from that day to this, a period of nearly a thousand years. About a dozen monks of the Augustin order, generally reside here. They bind themselves by a vow to remain fifteen years, yet so severe and intense is the cold, that they seldom live much over half that time. What a praiseworthy design! What noble self-denial !

Every morning, in winter, a monk and a servant descend the mountains in every direction, to hunt for travelers, who have been overtaken, and lost amid storms of snow, to carry them to the Hospice, and minister to their wants. Each monk and servant, is accompanied by one of the noble dogs of St. Bernard. These animals are of a tawny hue, large, and powerful, and unequaled for sagacity and affectionateness of disposition. When they leave the Hospice on winter mornings, a small basketful of bread and wine, is placed around the neck of each for the benefit of any lost traveler that may be found. Some years since one of these dogs, in a single day, saved the lives of fifteen persons.

The unfortunate wayfarer frequently perishes, ere the aid of these benerolent monks can reach him. The bodies of such are conveyed to the morgue. or dead house, a small square stone building, where if not claimed, they remain, and in the lapse of years, gradually fall to pieces. "It never thaws, nor does corruption, or the worms of death ever invade the inmates of the cold charnel house of St. Bernard. It presented a fearful spectacle," says Dr. Durbin, "as we looked through the grated window; and I shall keep the image of it to my dying day. The cold earth floor was strewn with bones, and bodies half crumbled, which had fallen from their leaning posture by the wall. Others stood there as they had stood for years, and seemed to turn their ghastly gaze upon us; one especially, whose winding sheet, his only coffin, was yet perfect around him. But what clings most closely and sadly, is a mother and her infant. She had clasped her child to her bosom, drawn the skirts of her gown around it, pressed her hands firmly about its neck, then looked back over her shoulder as if for help, and died. There they stood before me just as they were found. With saddened hearts we turned away, and retraced our steps to the convent."

Visitors are entertained free of expense at the convent; but they generally consider it their duty to contribute to its support, a little box being placed for that purpose in the chapel. The traveler is greeted kindly at the door by a monk, and conducted to a cheerful apartment and fire within.

The monks proved very amiable and agreeable. Having partaken of a comfortable meal, and enjoyed an hour's chat by the fireside, they were conducted to their chambers, being soon ensconsed in the clean white sheets of

the excellent beds of the Hospice, slept finely after the fatigues of the day. "Next morning," continues Dr. Durbin, "we rose early, in time to attend mass in the chapel. Within, the tones of the organ were sounding sweetly, while without, the wind was howling over the snow-clad mountains, as it does on the wild December nights at home. How beautiful it was the worship of God on this dreary mountain top! I felt its beauty, as I listened to those deep organ tones, and heard the solemn chant of the priests in the mass; and I honored in my heart these holy men, who devote themselves to this monotonous and self-denying life, in order to do good in the spirit of their master, to the bodies and the souls of men. Nor did I honor them the less that they were Romanists and monks of St. Augustin; for well I know that for a thousand years, Romanists and monks of St. Augustin had done the good deeds that they were doing, and that, when none else could do them. A man must be blinded indeed by prejudice, or bigotry, that cannot see the monuments of Catholic virtue, and the evidences of Catholic piety in every country in Europe; and worse than blind must he be, that will not acknowledge and honor them when he does see them.”

Where'er we roam-along the brink
Of Rhine, or by the sweeping Po,
Through Alpine vale or champaign wide,
What'er we look on, at our side
Be charity! to bid us think,
And feel, if we would know."

Beside the St. Bernard, the Simplon, and the Splugen are the most celebrated of any of the Alpine passes, on this frontier. That of the Splugen seems to be shrouded in more absolute terrors than any in Switzerland.

"The passage of the French general, Macdonald, at the perilous gorge of the Cardinell in the Splugen, was made in the most terrific of seasons. Through this terrific chasm, at the will of Napoleon, he undertook a five days' fight with the elements. It was winter and storm, but there was no retreating. He advanced with his army in the face of a cannonade of avalanches, on the brink of unfathomable abysses, where many a score of despairing men, and struggling horses, buffeted and blinded by the wings of the tempest, and wrapped in a winding sheet of ice and snow, were launched off by the crashing mountain masses, and buried forever. Over this gorge, the avalanches hang, balanced and brooding, so that a whisper may precipitate them.

In the passage of Macdonald's army through this frightful region, it is a wonder that whole regiments were not buried at once. The amazement is, that passing in a winter's storm, with avalanches repeatedly shooting through these columns, so large a portion of the army escaped, not more than a hundred men and as many horses being lost. One of the drummers of the army having been shot in a snow bank from the avalanche into the frightful gulf, and having struggled forth alive, but out of sight and reach of his comrades, was heard beating his drum for hours in the abyss, vainly expecting

rescue.

Poor fellow! the roll of his martial instrument had often roused

« ПретходнаНастави »