Zermatt,
Aug. 16Honey dear: -
Again I may freeze to death writing to you, but I want to stick to this spot until the tops grow pink if I can! Last night it rained hard, all night and more. As a result the stream is out of bounds just here above the village and rows of townsfolk are out to watch. Pieces of crystal clear ice are coming down from the glacier, one as big as our blue cooking dishes (ordinary day, not preserving!) others, many, half as big. The hillside I'm sitting on has two huts just below, one with a lichen-covered slate roof, the other turfed. If the animals are in they can't get out, for the front yard is 2-3 feet deep in water. The slope around me is all dotted with the loveliest crocuses! Nobody ever told me there was a kind here that bloomed in the fall but here they are, no leaves a lovely lavender pink color all through quantities of hillslopes. Tomorrow I'll go up to the Gorner Gorges, for the water will be great there, but there's no time now. The sun set here some time ago, it's creeping up the opposite slopes where there are wonderful tall straight larches, then knarled pines, then rocks and then clouds and snow. The Matterhorn is over my shoulder, with shining clouds mostly hiding it, and on the wrong side for a glow. But it might catch it, later, if one didn't freeze first. Lots of ice is coming down. I see more and more on the walls the water is washing over in places. 'Tis a grey green color this brook and it races so. Some of the smaller brooks are blue.
It is now later - I'm in the Hotel Mont Cervin, a Seiler establishment, watching the polyglot company out of the tail of my eye as I write. And hearing French, German, English, Italian all in a jmble. Alice is up at Riffelalp but I decided that maybe I'd be happier at 5,000 feet than at 7,000 for living, though I went up today for a little while. There was one mile too much (I guess) in a walk at Gletsch and so I'm being "cautious," darn it. But I propose to do more mountains - other years, these are about done for the year - hence I pamper my circulation! My back is doing finely. If it were ever convenient I'd try the gentle corset for a half day - bit it's never convenient to undress more than once a day!
We had a fine trip from Gletsch here, first down hill by a most jerky cog-wheel system to Brigue, where we saw nothing to mention of the back of the Jungfrau group - I hoped we could get more, but one must go up to Eggishorn or Belalp to see the Aletsch glacier to advantage, and either trip is a considerable undertaking. From Brigue we went on a good heavy express train - best train we've seen in Europe - 8 minutes to Visp! But we quite look forward to going to Geneva on such a train. It was a Florence to Paris affair. Then we joggled up to Zermatt for an hour and a half, scenery superlatively fine, especially the foaming torrent, and the occasional glimpses of snow mountains.
These Seiler hotels are great things - rather more than moderate, but still not luxurious. The family began by Alexander here at Zermatt as you may know. There are now more than half a dozen here, also the three up to Gorner Grat, and the one at Gletsch and one other, all in the family, and they do give you a feeling of being looked after. Uncle Joseph at Gletsch shakes hands in farewell, "Ah, you willl see my nephew at Riffelalp!" And it is the proprietor who assigns the rooms. Also I've just been referred to him for advice about a hotel in Amiens. A most pleasant man, here.
The town is perfectly jammed full! When I wanted to stay down instead of up, I was seriously offered a bed in a bathroom (one used as a private bath combination, I think) by the humblest Seiler place, but the hour of the day was favorable for hunting, earlier than most trains, so I found the one here, at the Dependance. The head waiter asked a lone English girl and me to sit together - with apologies because the place is so full. She's pleasant - had never seen a glacier until today, and is much thrilled by the rush of the Rhone. She'd better meet the Danube! Alice and I have just revelled in those river systems, Po, Danube, Rhine and Rhone headwaters all in one day. Switzerland would appear to be the central hill, to be sure!
This village is all tourists - but yet it isn't, there's a considerable dark brown chalet section, with rough log houses and barns perched on flat slates, overhanging eaves and outside stairs. The 70 or so goats came up the main street each night, all with tinkling bells. And though the sophisticated hotel garden is under my window, so also are three of the goats, just over the fence! The lady milks 'em.
But Alice said today just what I'd been wondering if she would say, that the Tirol is the place of charm, to go back to and stay in! I'd rather go to Mieders than to come here again, spectacular as the Matterhorn is! Those sweet painted houses and the town bad! Here there are these depressing chalets and the jazz orchestras! And the folks are different. But I'm hoping tomorrow will display the mountains, thank you! I like them quite well.
Must stop now - it's bed-time though I don't see how it got to be so. I'll hope for another letter when we get to Geneva Saturday night. I expect Geneva to be fine.
Much, much love - Abby
Aug. 17. This didn't get mailed so I'll add a bit more. It has been a gorgeous day, as good as one could possibly have. The Matterhorn has appeared with floating clouds and plain - but "out" all day. I went up to Riffelberg and had a grand time poking around for flowers as well as gazing at the kingdoms of the earth. There was a telescope on the hotel terrace which a man couldn't focus, so of course I had to do it - and saw three men just silhouetted against the sky on the very top rock of the Matterhorn, still a moment, then start down! 'Twas almost as if I'd been! That thing certainly has a soaring quality which is extraordinary.
And how folks seem to revel in the fatalities. This summer one man (or boy) has hung where he could be seen by a telescope, but in a perfectly inaccessible spot - and we hear of him, and all others back to Whymper's companions. There was a fine Englishman on the train going up who told a lot about things, and who had seen the high ones of Thibet from the plains and says they are so much higher than these. Another jovial Englishman entertained me at dinner and told me where to find a flower-book in Geneva. I have to have a better one than I have. Alas he knew a lot about the flowers, tries to transplant and is crazy over a sessile thistle, a queer thing, that has blossomed for him this year in England. A woman tells me the secret of alpine things is to give them perfect drainage. She has taken home 20-30 kinds and made them live. She puts them in a sink, and old one sunk in the garden, and the old outlet means drainage.
Tomorrow afternoon to Geneva - and that looks very attractive.
I'll mail this before crossing the street to the Dependance - my abode is very comfortable - I wish you could see these mountains again -
Love - Abby -