The Democratic advocate., 1888-06-09


miserable poverty of the village and people
impressed us strongly, living huddled te-
gether in low log or stucco huts, dirty,
Door, sick. After leaving the vineyards,
there seemed little means of livelihood in
the sterile, rocky soil, and the number of
idiots gathered about the village fountains
and corners of the streets were most pitiful
to behold. Here at st. Pierre we were
glad to find fewer beggars, more health
full atmosphere, and at the inn, dejeuner
de Napoleon, tolerable luncheon, was
served. We had started at 5 a. m, yet
here at St. Pierre they told us our journey
had just commenced, as they Exchanged
our horses for mules, while the whole pop
ulation gathered to see us off. | noticed
our guide-a land fellow, in blue blouse
and bonnet-strap on my mule heavy
woolen coat. This coat did good service
later, for after leaving St. Pierre the snow
clad mountains grew unpleasantly near to
us, and the cold winds from the glacier du
Valsorey swept down the gorge across our
path hewn from the solid rock, and whistled
in and out among the pines below.
An hour later found us at the Cantine
de PROF., lonely hut on the border of
rocky plane where the cattle of the hospice
are pastured. We saw some of the COWS
and goats, with their bells and buckles,
grazing on the scanty grass and herbs.
We paused moment at the stone chalets,
where the monks make their butter and
cheese for winter use, regular Alpine
dairy, fresh and neat and clean. At this
point the road ends. The traveller leaves
the last sign Of human life behind him,
and here we buttoned our coats tightly
across our chests, turned up our collars,
and went out across the plain to the dreary
Vallee des Morts (valley Of the dead), be-
yond. The sun had disappeared; the cold
was intense. From the great rocky basin
in front OF us there seemed to be no escape,
walled in as it was by surrounding masses
of cliff, bare, grand, awful, shutting us in
like the end Of the world, with o stiffness
so vast that it could almost be heard, a
sense of loneliness and desolation beyond
all description, and yet kind of fascina-
ton deeper than awe foF the great solitude.
Perhaps this is the fascination which has
led men to shun human society and follow
a life which We Of the world can never
comprehend.
Yet it was curious to see In all this
bleakness how the flowers sprouted up
whenever there was an opening. Almost
under the snow drifts we gathered them,
fragrant violets, tender yellow anemones
and Alpine roses We sometimes stepped
from bank of snow on to a carpet of
closely growing flowers. The effect was
marvellous. For three hours we journeyed
thus, when suddenly the guide called our
attention to the setting sun. The noun
tain peaks were aglow with rosy light upon
their snow-capped SUBMITS, Twill not try
to describe it. One must see 1t to under
stand. A moment later, turning o bend in
the gorge, we saw the hospice Of Mount
st. Bernard, a mass of cold gray stone
against the purple sky, unutterably lonely,
weird, desolate among these bald rocks,
ice.bonnd cataracts and snow capped noun
tains. This was the middle of summer,
and we were shiyeriHg from head to foot.
What must it be in winter
The brotherhood consists Of about forty
members; the inmates of this monastery
being fifteen or twenty Augustine monks,
most of them under 30. Some looked
mere boys. After fifteen years of service
the severity of the climate undermines their
constitutions and they are compelled to
descend to miider climates below. Their
Office is to receive and lodge strangers gra-
tuitously and to render assistance to travel
ers in danger during the snowy season,
which here lasts about nine months. In
this work of benevolence they are aided by
the famous St. Bernard dogs, whose keen
sense of smell enables them to track and
discover travellers buried in the snow, num-
bers of whom are rescued by these noble
animals.
Our first impression of the hospice was
as of some ruined chateau. There were
beggars hanging on the outskirts and pau
pers gathered about the arched doorway;
young Italians with packs on their backs,
mountaineers returned from the hunt with
guns and game-bags, guides, young Eng
lishmen s!tramping it, through the Alps,
and wanderers like ourselves, all alike vel
coined by the great glowing lantern which
shed its rays far into the pass on either
side. was not astonished when the young
priest told me later that often they have
lodged 600 strangers of night under that
hospitable roof.
When gathered around the flaming logs,
listening to the cracking of pine cones,
the pere Luisier told us of their winter
life, the dreariness Of their lone yigils, the
thrilling adventures of their daily search
for travellers, when all the wayfarers are
poor, when cold is intense, the snow of
great depth, and the dangers from storms
even threatening their strong monastery.
We went to our rooms trembling with ex-
citement and crept under the elder down
quilts, thankful that ours was only a twenty
four hours stay in this desolate region.
The angelus wakened us at 8 the fol-
lowing morning, and we heard the monks
chanting their morning prayers. We
went to pay our respects TO the dogs, whose
kennels are well worth seeing. The great
awkward puppies-balls of soft yellow and
white fur-were rolling about among the
hay The dogs have most intelligent
face, great, soft eyes and gentle manner.
They looked as if they comprehended their