CHAPTER XXII.

THE road of the Simplon is in truth one of the most magnificent works of this century. Napoléon determined it. should be made immediately after he had crossed the great St. Bernard. When the battle of Marengo was "fought and won," he commanded his engineers to make a survey of the route. Those of Céard were deemed the best, and therefore chosen. On the Italian side it was commenced in 1800, and on the Swiss in 1801. It required the labor of six years to complete it, as the road passed over more than six hundred bridges, great and small. Napoléon was exceedingly interested in the progress of the work. Whenever information was brought him concerning it, he would always ask, "Le canon-quand pourrait-il passer au Simplon?" showing his great object was the more easy transportation of his powerful artillery.

At Brieg the road left the " arrowy Rhone," and we drove rapidly up the Simplon. So gradual was the ascent, we were scarcely conscious of the height we had attained, save by the clearer view of the distant valleys. The weather was delightful; not in the slightest degree cold, but gentle and soft as the sweetest days of our spring.

When we lost sight of the Rhone valley the road turned away from the Glytzhorn, which rose up like a grand

VIEW FROM THE FIRST POST-HOUSE.

187

rampart, and passed by the Briethorn into the gorge of the Saltine, where we crossed a fierce torrent upon a covered bridge. Far, far above us we saw the clear, pale blue fields. of ice, and were told our road upward would pass near them.

The view from the first post-house was admirable. We seemed as though raised up in a balloon, with the valleys of Brieg and Tourtemagne spread out beneath us. After changing horses we crossed the plain of Gauther and another furious torrent, upon the Pont de Gauther. The plain is very dangerous in consequence of the avalanches every winter. Now, we perceived the Herculean labor of making the road. There were miles of solid masonry and hundreds of feet of galleries formed partly of the living rock and partly of huge pillars of stone and mortar. The turnings and windings of the way were really incredible. One valley we passed entirely around three times upon ledges or terraces, built one above the other, as though they belonged to some giant hanging garden. When we gained the summit we could trace far below us the narrow track like a white seam upon the mountain-side. Well might Sir James Mackintosh say of this road: "It is the greatest of all those monuments that dazzle the imagination by their splendor, and are subservient to general convenience."

The first gallery we entered was that of Schalbet, ninetyfive feet long, and emerging from it we beheld all the glory of the Bernese Alps. These were the peaks of the Briethorn, the Aletsch Hörner, and the Viescher Hörner, standing in bold relief against the clear sky. Their summits were covered with snow, while between them appeared the glaciers of Aletsch, the most extensive of the Alps. The scene was indescribably grand.

The glacier of the Kaltwasser was just above us, not more than a hundred yards away. The color of the ice was of

the deepest blue, with long streaks of white through it, caused by the melting of the mass. Several torrents rushed from beneath it, and fell over the cliffs in sheets of snow-like foam; our eyes followed them until they were lost in the dim depths, thousands and thousands of feet below. Far above, where no human feet have trod, were the wild goats (the chamois of the Alps), standing in perfect security upon the topmost peak of the Simplon, which was uncovered, although around and below it the "everlasting snows" lay pure and deep.

Along this portion of the road the avalanches are frequent; also the tourmentes (sudden storms). Hence the construction of many galleries as places of protection. They are made in such a manner that the avalanches slide over them and fall into the valleys below. After passing through one of these long-arched tunnels, termed the "glacier galleries," with great apertures like windows, we found ourselves beneath a waterfall, which came roaring from the glaciers above, and rushed over the rocks, forming the roof of our gallery; thus we beheld the fearful sight, while we felt ourselves in safety.

From gallery to gallery we drove on until we came out upon the edge of the precipice. Then for the first time a sensation of fear thrilled our hearts, or rather of awe. Before us were the Bernese Alps in their lonely grandeur. Far below into caverns and chasms of untold depth fell the glacier torrents, echoing from peak to peak the music of the waterfall. Far above all, arose the summit of the Simplon in white and chilly grandeur. It was entirely covered with snow, save a few pulpit-shaped rocks. Around it was a crown of clouds, touched by the sunbeams and wrought into fantastic banks of rose-hue, exquisitely beautiful to behold. Neither shrub, tree, nor flower formed a portion of the majestic spectacle, where " Alps rose over Alps," while the brilliant snow of ages, the eternal glaciers, and the mighty rocks

DOGS OF GREAT ST. BERNARD.

189

reigned supreme. Never did I feel my soul more perfectly raised from "Nature up to Nature's God!" Who could be a skeptic in a scene like this, where the hand of the "Great Architect" is so manifest in the glories of his creation. A feeling of profound gratitude filled my bosom that my eyes had dwelt upon this glorious mountain-world, and that within my memory it would be a joy forever.

Higher and higher we went, until we perceived near us the little cross marking the culminating point of the road, six thousand five hundred and seventy-eight feet above the level of the sea. Although the elevation was so great, the atmosphere was pleasantly warm, and the air so pure and clear, objects exceedingly distant seemed incredibly near. We left the diligence and climbed a rocky eminence, where we drank a bumper of fleurie to "those we love best" in our far-away home, turning our faces westward towards our hearts' Mecca, as we wafted them blessings fond and true.

Across a gray, barren plain, we drove to a large hospice, commenced by the command of Napoléon, and since completed. It is occupied by friars of the Augustine order. They give shelter to travellers during periods of stormy weather. We saw there the dogs of the great St. Bernard; they are almost as large as a well-grown calf, and are covered with thick, shaggy hair. Father Barras came out to speak with us. He is noted for his kindness to strangers, and has a most benevolent face.

Along the Simplon road there are six houses of refuge for "the traveller worn and weary." They are most valuable asylums, for the tempests often arise so suddenly, it would be impossible to escape certain destruction were not these places of protection wisely placed within the reach of the wayfarer. Then the avalanches occur when the "heavens are brightest." We heard the crushing sound of one, but it was happily far

away from us in a distant valley. The houses of refuge are built with massive walls and furnished with an abundance of fire-wood. Some few are occupied by miserable-looking peasants, who will wait upon a stranger for a good compensation. Others are left open, and all enter who wish, free and without charge.

Often in letters to dear Mamma, have I told her of the delight we have experienced in meeting friends and acquaintances in all our wanderings. But we did not imagine, amid the glaciers and the eternal snows, almost in the skies (for some clouds were below us), that we should still find one. During all the day we had remarked a handsome man, with a noble, distinguished air, walking at times along the mountain-road. Upon inquiry we discovered he was the occupant of the carriage following our diligence. When we stopped at the hospice he came up to us, and presented a bouquet of Alpine flowers which he had gathered during the morning. There was a certain grace and gallant manner which at once induced me to believe he was an American; therefore to be assured of my supposition, I made some remark concerning our country," and found we had known each other well in days long past;" and thus on the summit of the Simplon I met a friend. It was truly a bright and sparkling incident in "the pass of the Simplon." Mr. Ogden was with a party of intelligent gentlemen from the United States, who were journeying our way, and we travelled together several days.

At Simplon (Semplone in Italian) we dined, and then proceeded on to the Gallery of Algaby, the first on the Italian side of the mountain. It is along the Doveria, near where it rushes into the Gorge of Gondo. Words cannot even give a shadow of the wild and savage grandeur of this Alpine gorge. Goethe, in his Faust, has pictured just such