Saturday, October 21th 1854 ~ Interlochen

Castle of Chillon, on the shores of Lake Geneva.

Hotel Belvidere ~ Our windows at Grindelwald looked out upon the {Mittenberg} mountain and Unt glacier which descended close to us. It is a small but pretty collection of wooden houses, surrounded by mountains. The Wetterhorn Eiger, Mittenberg, and Wengern Alp all look very near. In fact, we seemed to be just under them. The Eiger is the most imposing at Grindelwald. It rises so like a needle of rock (as the Swiss call it) into the air. Its summit always clothed in ice and snow, from which the black rock shows itself in jagged points and ridges.

At ten o’clock this morning we took a carriage for Lauterbrunnen and Staubach on the way to Interlachen. The drive was a very pleasant one although it rained quite hard. The road winds between high mountains, but we could not see their summits on account of the clouds. The Staubach fall is about half a mile from Lauterbrunnen and this last place was about three miles out of our way. Still we thought it would be a shame not to see a fall so celebrated by Byron, Longfellow and other poets. At Lauterbrunnen we were forced to leave the carriage and walk under umbrellas though the wind to see this beautiful object. Our path was pointed out by the driver and after having pursued it for some time we asked a peasant to point out the fall and were told we had “just past it!” and there it was, a little meek stream trickling down from very high rocks; scarcely a teacup full of water. We had passed it without remarking it. I can however imagine its being very beautiful during the spring and summer when there is more water and of a bright day where the sun would tinge with rainbow hues the “lace veil” which the water is converted into before it reaches the earth by the action of the air. A little girl and boy seeing us staring at this “wonder work of God and Nature’s hand”! brought out an Alpine horn and sounded it there. The echo was wonderful. The air was instinct with the melody long after the instrument ceased. It is a long wooden pipe, perhaps five feet long and produces a very loud and at a distance a very melodious sound. We did not appreciate Longfellow’s fall or his chime of Bells at Bruges. The magnificent king Frau and {Monk} here rose just above us but we could not see them. We reached Interlachen at four o’clock, and after getting settled at the hotel I posted off to the “poste aux lettres” and received there a letter from Mother, our first since leaving Liverpool. Poor Alice had none and is in {} despair. Also a letter from Sidney Homer saying he would meet {} chain. In descending to Vivey we took out our Childe Harold and read the passages which have added if possible even more renown to Lake Geneva so celebrated in history, poetry, and painting. We remained for two hours at Vivey and then took a boat for Ville{men}, a little place just at the extreme end of the lake. The sail of course was delightful, the waters smooth and clear reflecting every cloud. On the other side of Vivey the shores are rather low and on the other, hills not very high just serve to shut off the view of the great mountain range behind them. The lake has no islands and is not in itself as beautiful as many of our own lakes. It cannot compare in beauty with Lake Lucerne although they can hardly be compared for one has the charms of wilderness, the other is all smiles and soft sunlit beauty. Vivey is far the handsomest Swiss city we have yet seen. The streets are wide, clean and well paved, the houses large and tasty.

Our hotel here is about a quarter or half mile from Villeneuve and quite near the Castle of Chillon. It looks much more like a gentleman’s country place than a hotel. The long avenue leading from the road to the door is shaded with high trees while a large flower garden behind, perfume in the air. English people often pass the summer here, for it is said to be a particularly healthy situation. We ordered dinner and then started the walk over a muddy road to the Castle. It is a fine looking old place, but not as picturesque as many of the Rhemish castles. Its chief interest to us consisted in the story with which Lord Byron has invested it – “the prisoner of Chillon.” The castle is of reddish stone. It is built at the waters edge so that its principal tower stands in the water. Just opposite it and quite near is the “little isle” on which the “prisoner” saw the sun beams play. It is a mere heap of stones not large enough to contain the trees spoken of. We were shown the dungeon where Bonivard was confined. The ring which had bound him to one of its stone pillars and the little path worn by his feet in the stone pavement, about three feed long, in a half circle, around the pillar showing the length of his chain. On a neighboring column Byron, Jean Jaque Rousseau, Eugene Sue, Victor Hugo, Richard Dana and others have inscribed their names. Why Dana’s name should be in such company I cannot conceive. The vaulted roof is supported by about seven of these columns. The dungeon though strong is not as gloomy and terrible as that of Baden. In one of the apartments we were shown a great slanting stone on which two thousand Jews had been strangled. In the torture room is still standing a beam to which offenders were fastened while fire was applied to the soles of their feet. The wood is still scorched. Here also is an “oubliette” A cross beam of an often used gibbet which stands or stood opposite an image of the Virgin. These relics should teach us to appreciate our days of law and order. “Chillon thy prison is a holy place and thy sad floor an altar.”

Friday, October 6th 1854 ~ Frankfurt, Germany

Frankfurt's "Jewish Quarter," or Judengasse in 1868.

Hotel de Russie ~ I forgot to mention that the grape harvest was being gathered in as we ascended the river yesterday. Peasants, men and women, were to be seen toiling up and down the hills, with baskets of the ripe fruit upon their heads. We left Mayence this morning. It is only about an hours ride from here. Before leaving we took a walk about the city and concluded that there was not much to be seen there. It has no surrounding high land and therefore no fine scenery. We took a walk some distance beyond its gates to a garden, on the banks of the river farther up, and obtained from there a fair view of the city besides seeing some forest trees changing color, to remind us of the scenery in our own native land. Mayence is strongly fortified by a succession of small forts, so small as and so placed among the trees that one scarcely notices them. Murray calls it one of the most important fortresses of Germany on the side of France. It suffered greatly during the 30 years war. This afternoon we took a guide from our hotel, here in Frankfort, and walked to see the celebrated Ariadni (a woman seated on a lion) and were delighted with it beyond measure. The models one sees of this in all our shop windows at home give a very good idea of it but fail to convey the exquisite “feeling” of the original, fail to impress as this. It is the prosperity of a private gentleman here, who has a building appropriated entirely to its use in his grounds. One of its beauties consists in the marble being still fresh pure and white. The statuary we have generally seen has been yellow or brown with age. Leaving the Ariadni we dismissed our guide, took a carriage and drove to see the house in which Martin Luther was born and from which the Protestant religion and the bible went out to all the worlds. We saw the house in which Goethe was born and his monument (a colossal sitting figure in marble) finely done. It was still crowned with garlands of oak leaves placed there on his last birth day. We drove through the “jews quarter” the worst in Europe. It is the vilest, darkest, dirtiest street I ever saw, without sidewalks, without the light of heaven almost, and crowded with tumble down houses. Here they were formerly shut up every night, but now they may live where they please. Frankfort has very extensive parks but is not a handsome city, cannot compare with Brussels. In the public library we saw the wooden shoes etc. Luther wore, a copy of the first edition of the bible printed in Latin and some other rare books.