W1/6565

Samuel Whitbread II, Chamonix, to Elizabeth Grey. Marked no 20.

22 July 1787

From: 1787 To: 1787

My dearest Bessy How can I better dissipate the Ennui attendant upon bad Weather in this solitary spot. than by taking up my pen & giving you some account of the transactions of these three last days. for I believe it is ever so long since I last wrote to You.- I am uncertain when this letter may be finished or whence I shall be able to dispatch it. but that consideration shall not prevent my writing, it is an occupation so truely pleasurable to me, & I am sure that you will not be displeased at my resorting to it so often.- Here we are in the midst of the Alps, the most romantic spot in the Creation; & here have we been ever since Friday Evening without being able to put our heads out of the doors, the rain has been so incessant. We left Geneva on Thursday, & arrived here on Friday afternoon, the Weather the finest in the World. Before we had been an hour in the Valley the clouds began to gather, & the Peasants presaged Rain. their predictions were but too true, it began to rain in the Evening, & I think that it has hardly ceased ten Minutes for these forty eight hours past. You will allow this to a most severe trial of patience. to be in the midst of the most noble display of nature, & not to be able to enjoy any of it's beauties; & to be confined to a stinking Alehouse. We muster up however all the Philosophy we possess & find ourselves rather revived this Evening by the appearance of the Barometer; which has risen since dinner. I cannot tell you what would be the event of another day's rain; for I hold myself totally at Monson's disposal in this tour & if he can bear to wait for fine weather a fortnight longer, I shall not murmur. He is captivated with a little of the Alps that he has seen, & I am quite constant in my attachment to this delightfull Country; & have looked over & retraced some of my former Walks with infinite satisfaction. Should we be blest with a fine day tomorrow it will be employed in mounting the Montanvert. Great plans of walking are laid out for the two succeeding days should they be fine; but whether they are merely the result of that activity & spirit of enterprize one always feels possessed of when sitting in an armchair, & which the expedition of tomorrow may thoroughly overthrow, or whether we are really capable of the Fatigue remains to be proved. For myself I think I can answer, having made pretty long expeditions the last time I was here, & Tom swears he is up to any thing. the Idea is to send our Horses from hence to the top of the Grand St. Bernard, by way of the Valais. ourselves to go by way of the Mer de Glace on foot, to Cormayeier the first day, & the next to meet our Cavalry. Our labour will be infinitely repaid by the sublime Majesty of the prospects on our way & I hope sincerely myself that the plan will be put in execution. do not imagine that we risk any thing in the fatigue or difficulty of the Paths; we shall go very well attended by guides & there do not travel two people more careful of their precious persons than Tom & your humble Servant. I give you the names of all the places we mean to visit altho' it must make my letter an unintelligible Jargon. Decypher however in the nonsense of all I write to you, only this Truth, that I love You; & I will be content to have Epistles pass for the most incoherent rhapsodies that ever were penned. Knowing where you are & having had the pleasure of passing some time at Fallodon, I derive a very similar satisfaction from guessing at different times of the day your occupations; & I am sure you will laugh at the ridiculous idea of my pulling out my Watch when I sit down to dinner to know whether dinner is upon table at Fallodon. but so it is, If I am childish it is your doing. laugh with me, but do not laugh at me. I complained of Tom in my last letter, I have still reason to complain of his Esprit railleur. He gathered me Yesterday a little bouquet of heart's ease; & presented it with the utmost formality. He was unaware of the train of Ideas this would call up. do You remember the painting of that Flower in the Museum? do you remember your asking of another Person what I thought of You? as if you did not know yourself what possession you had of me? Nor did I forget the Evening of that same day; when I had so hard a task to banish real or pretended incredulity. do not be angry at my applying the epithet pretended; for I will not do so much injustice to your discernment, as not to be positive that you were well aquainted with the Person whom I did like, long before you saw her in Portman Square. Confess to me; did you not know at my quitting Fallodon that you were the principle cause of the regret I felt at leaving the North, of the desire I had to return. that you were the attraction that brought me to Town, to tast porter & that you settled me there? if you do not plead guilty to this charge I shall be very unhappy, because I shall be convinced that your feelings did not correspond with mine. by the hope that they did, that they do I live.- Above the half of this odious Absence is passed; & this day ten Weeks I shall I hope be in England; look at your little Almanack, it will tell you that this day twelve Weeks I shall be at Fallodon. I am half mad with Joy at the Idea. Adieu dear Bessy for to night. Adieu. July 23. At the close of a day full as rainy & provoking as it's two predecessors I resume my pen to teaze you once more with the repetition of our misfortunes. Our hopes of fine Weather yesterday Evening were fallacious, the Barometer lied, & we arose this morning to a drenching rain, which continued till late in the afternoon. We persevere, & I think seem determined to outlast the clouds in the Valley of Chamouni. We have again by the clearness of the night that tomorrow will be fine. If You were conscious of our present situation you would devoutly pray that the Heavens would be propitious. for you are doomed to be tormented with a daily recital of our Woes till they cease & we are liberated from this Captivity. One consideration consoles me that Time is not in reality impeded, & that we are just as near the blessed 29 of September as if the Sun shone in it's utmost splendor. I do not know whether I told you that Le Duc was to go with our carriage at Basle to wait our arrival. At the expiration of ten days from this getting to Basle, he has orders to go to Strasbourg & to return with what letters may be chez M. Franc for my direction; thus I shall divide the pleasure of receiving what you may have been good eno' to written me, & make two Epochas in my Tour instead of one. My expectations are greatly raised as to the quantity of Sheets I shall receive from You. & I sincerely hope no foolish whim will have checked your pen & made you fancy that it was unnecessary to direct so many to the same place. If you have any conception of the exquisite pleasure I have in receiving your letter; of the anxious happiness with which I read & treasure up every expression; your good Nature will oblige you to be eternally writing. I shall not trouble you long this Evening, for if the Weather continues rainy the Journal will extend to a most tedious length. I shall tomorrow have no resource but that of writing to You. but can I desire a better or more amusing occupation? no for myself, but I must have some consideration for Bessy, & not prose her to death.- I have exhausted all the books we brought with Us, & none will bear a second reading but Young, & with him it is improper to meddle on such gloomy Weather. do you observe what I said about that Author? pray do not read him, except in Sunshine & good spirits.- We are not the only wretches confined in this Valley; the two other Alehouses are full, of all Nations waiting a favourable day to visit the Glaciers & the Montauvert. We have had no Company at our abode till this Evening; when two bulls arrived from Geneva. it is impossible they can have seen any one beauty either of the place they are in, or of the road that they came. they however declare themselves thoroughly satisfied with the accounts given by the Guides, of what they would have seen, had the Weather been favourable: & have ordered their Horses to return to Geneva early tomorrow Morning. Once of them, who by his dialect appears to have been born North of Tweed, asked me whether he was now among the rale Aulps. I told him He was precisely under Mont Blanc the highest of all the Alps. he supposed it was very high & he should like on a fine day to go up & see the prospect. My representation that only three human beings did ever reach the Top, & that with great difficulty & danger & after many Years of fruitless experiments; & that to attain the summit it was necessary to pass two nights in the open Air, seemed to have very little effect upon his consciousness of his own Activity; I dare say he is gone to bed fully convinced that if tomorrow proved fine, & he chose it, he could attain the Top of the Mont Blanc by mid-day.- We have been talking with the Guides today about the route I mentioned to You by Cormayeur to the St. Bernard & find that it will be attended with neither difficulty nor danger. but that the first day will require considerable exertion. this letter will not be closed till I arrive at some post Town. so that it is likely to be pretty extensive, & you will have our projects & the execution of them at once. The account of our time here would amuse You. We read, we play at chuck farthing, & drafts; & talk over the happy days spent at Fallodon. I was discovered to day notching upon a stick the number of days that still remain between this & the happy conclusion of our Wanderings. He has offered me a Wager, that I literally keep this Stick & cut off every day a notch;- I have not accepted the Bet. I think of You eternally; do but remain the same as I left you & I shall be completely happy. but I promise to be concise to night, & if I get upon my favourite subject of contemplation & writing, your excellence I shall never cease. I will only say that you are in my Eyes all perfection. I cannot even find the few necessary faults to justify a but between the two Words. God bless you my dearest Bessie. Good Night. Adieu. July 25. Worse & Worse; this day has if possible than any we have yet had it poured till four o'clock; since that time it has cleared. We have walked for three hours, & we flatter ourselves once more that tomorrow will be fine. Our patience however is nearly exhausted & we are almost determined if we arise to another wet day to get out of this Valley. but there will be some difficulty in the escape: for the Torrents are very much swollen & we have scarcely any more Clothes than those on our Backs. So far at all events we are unfortunate that the Snow that has fallen this Morning has so much blocked up the Paths in the Mountains as to render them impracticable until two or three days Sun shall have thawed the new Snow. Our scheme to Cormayeur must of course drop, for I think that we shall not be tempted to stay three days longer at Chamouni. It really begins to grow extremely tiresome. Having read all our Library thro' I have been poring over the dusty maps that hang round the room, Great Britain amongst the rest: if I were an absolute Prince I should undoubtedly order the Geographer to close Confinement & bread & Water for six Months, for the Thief has omitted Alnwick & what greater crime could he commit?- but I ought to repress my good humour & good spirits even when writing to You whilst the community about us are almost all in Tears on account of a melancholy accident that happened this morning. The Intendant of this part of Savoy was to have come to Chamouni this morning & one of the most respectable & opulent Old Men of the Village sat off to meet him this Morning on horseback; he was ninety two years of Age & in perfect health; in crossing the second torrent it is supposed that his horse fell with him for he was found at a considerable distance off without his rider & the Old Man drowned. Every means of restoring him, without effect have been applied. Indeed were it not that the Community to which he belonged have almost lost a Father, I should think it a lucky circumstance that they had not succeeded in their endeavours; life at ninety two cannot be extremely desirable & to have lived to such an age without Infirmity is a much greater blessing than falls to the common lot. How far preferable such an accidental Death, to the Death of Bed-rid Age with feeble moan. I beg pardon for distressing you with so melancholy a subject; but the Scene lies immediately before my Eyes; One cannot be witness to misery without in some degree partaking of it, & you must share the sensations of my Heart. This eternal letter has almost reached to the extent of two sheets, & seems to have very little chance of departing for some time. However it's tediousness will be compensated by the confirmation you will have, that writing to you is a real source of pleasure to me; for I even write when there is no chance of conveying the packet to you; & when I have nothing to say I mean nothing new. I dare not read this letter over, for as it has been written at so many different times I will venture to say, that the same thing is repeated over & over again, & the tautology might make me so angry that I should perhaps commit the whole to the flames. but you will be a lenient critic; & when you find the Head of the poor man confused & weak you must pardon it for the sake of his Heart, which being your own property you must of course consider as honest & good.- Before the arrival of this at Fallodon the Assizes at Newcastle will be at an end, & you will be returned; I hope not so hoarse & tired as last year. remember all the instructions you have for the Week; remember the Knee. & pray add to the whole a word upon poor Patience. When I find an opportunity of sending this, I will add some Town to which the answer may be directed. The paper just supplies room for me to tell you once more my very dear Bessy, that I love you, & that I am now & ever thine. Adieu. Adieu.

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Whitbread, Samuel II,
Grey, Elizabeth,
Monson, Thomas

Geneva, Switzerland, Chamonix, Switzerland Alps, Mont Blanc, travel, rain