Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1870-02-18
=, INDEPENDENCE, IOWA. FRIDAY FEBRUARY 49, 1870.

| brook, and. so steep are some OF the asceAts,
| that even a mule might be pardoned for
slipping. When the night is dark and the
miSts come down, the path could hardly be
kept, even by man who had daily trav-
ersed it for years and the only safe guide
would be the roaring of the torrent. The
ascent is so steep that, after couple of
hours climbing, the traveller finds himself
several thousand feet above the level of the
sea, and at that elevation, even the hottest
day in August, the cold is at nightfall often
intense. On the night of the fatal accident
all those perils were combined. SO black
was the sky that the wayfarers had slowly to
to grope along by means Of The precipice
which hens in the sides Of the path farthest
from the torrent. Had the moon been up,
they might have been guided by the poles
which the mouks have planted in direct
line from the Hospice to the valley, to indi-
cate the direction when the path is buried
under the snow, and the torrent is frozen.
But, in the pitchy darkness, the friendly
beacons were obscured. Hence the travel
ers seem to have again and again been
brought to standstill before reaching that
ford of the brook at which the road dips and
often goes up with one swift spring to the
spot where the great barra ike Hospice
guides and cheers The benighted traveller by
its beacon light. The poor pilgrims were
SO near to the blaze that, had they been able
to exert themselves for a few minutes long
er, they world have been safe. But the toll
and the cold had so paralyzed their facul
ties that they could not proceed one step
further they were overcome by that cra-
wing for sleep, for rest, which is the effect
of intense cold and, within sight Of the
friendly CLEAN that beckoned them over.
head, all the travellers laid down and died.
On the Great St. Bernard the winter sea.
son begins soon and ends late, and during
the long months when the snow covers the
ground, or the cold makes travelling peril
GUS, it is the daily custom Of the good monks
to journey as far as the bottom of the pass,
in order that they may lend assistance TO
any traveller who may have dropped by the
way. Clad in their lonp, black serge gowns
and broad brimmed hats, accompanied by
attendants, who carry wine and provisions
for the restoration of the wearied or fainting
travellers, and guided by the famous St.
Bernard dogs, who do the work of pointers,
two or three monks daily make the seven
JtulIt W VIC NdItf UClOWs OUtll
the occurrence OF the late accident, they had
not for some years found any traveller dead
or beyond the reach of restoratives. Indeed,
the perls of the terrible pass have
become so fully appreciated, that even the
poorest traveller shrinks from attempting
the ascent to the monastery after the night
fall, if the ground is covered with snow, or
if the great gusts blow down from the hills
the three who have last fallen victims, how
ever, were less discreet; and nc xt morning
when the searching party of monks had
proceeded a short distance from the Hos
pice, they found the bodies stiff and cold.
They were taken to the little "morgue"
which is situated at a short distance from
the principal building Of the monastery
and in that naked mausoleum the remains
will abide with other relics of mortality,
unless claimed by the kinsfolk of the lost.
1t is grim resting place. In that small
hut perched among the wintry mountains
dwell the skeletons of the men and women
ard children who in the course Of many
generations, have perished in the fatal pass.
SO intense is the cold, that the unembalm-
ed bodies resist for long years the hand of
decay. Uncoffined, and dressed in the
clothes which they wore when found dead
among the snow, they stand perched against
the wall, and while the visitor looks through
the iron grating of their tomb, they peer
grimly, as if soliciting recognition and an
undesecrated place of rest An old man
leans against the wall, his head bare, his
staff in his hand, and his attitude s,iffened
forever by the death that smote him years
ago. A woman clutches in her arms the
babe that perished with her in the snow.
From the other grim figures the clothes
have rotted away in fragments, leaving
bleached protrudiug bones. The floor of
the dungeon-like tomb is strewn with men,
orials Of the dead; and going from the
blazing fire of the monastery to the
''morgue," the traveller can pass in sin
gle instant from the hum of mirthful con-
versation or the joyous sounds of music to
what might seem place Of the living
dead. Europe contains no more weird or
gloomy sight than that prison house Of
clothed skeletons, perched in the Alpine
wilderness, and seen through the misty and
wintry gloom. m.-London Telegraph.