From H. E. Darwin to Emma Darwin [after 13 September 1870]

This is the beginning. I believe I haven't written since [Meigringen]—only tht is so lng ago I thk I must. We got a lovely day for going over the Grosse Scheidek which is a 7 hour or so affair but we made it long by taking a stroll on the Grindel wald glacier en route— We had our beloved Engstlen Nicholas to take care of us—so when we came to the place where we ought to branch off to see the glacier he told us there was no difficulty & we sh^d.n't want him—so off we set along with lots more tourists— The tourists swarmed all over that part & awful machines of torture wh. they are pleased to call ""alpenhorns"" but wh. are simply ""touristhorns"" are blown at you at every place where there is a ghost of an echo—well, we found we were meant to go into a little dripping cave all swept & garnished for these abominable tourists & this not being our idea of seeing a glacier we set off to climb up. It was quite easy & I believe safe eno' but a gentleman solemnly warned us we were imperilling our life & limbs & that isn't my forte so we sat down on a couple of stones & sent off Sarah to fetch us Nicholas— Now she can't speak german & he ditto to french—so the result was he thought we'd gone down a crevasse & came flying along 14 miles an hour to pick us out again & was m. relieved to find we only wanted to take a walk on the glacier wh. we did with much delectation— It is such a beautiful colour when you get out of the dirt a little— Rosenlain is so much melted they say this Grindelwald is a better one now to go & see. Next day we were to have gone on over the little scheidek on to Lauterbrunner but at 5.30 the clouds were very low & soon after rain came on & Nicholas said it was no good so we settled to give it up & drive to Interlaken instead—so imagine our feelings at about 9 when it cleared up qui eno' to be very beautiful—but then we'd sent off Nicholas & ordered our carriage & hadn't energy to change back again & in the end it turned out Providence had been overruling for the best. We'd a sweet drive down tht lovely valley with two little rats tht went 10 miles an hour. The road crammed with tourists but no horns— It was so funny we saw all sorts of people we'd seen before amongst others who sh^d. we see driving along in an [einspanner] but Little Sullivan & the beaut Miss Scot Russel old Papa was there too so I spose it wasn't a honeymoon—but they must be engaged at last— At Interlaken I picked up Mama's nicey letter which I was all the gladder of as our Chateaux d Oix letters must now be forwarded and here, Frank, if your patience is quite exhausted give over reading & hand it over to ur Ma to finish—for I always write up these two [jellowys] & there is a terribly tedious long bit to come—m. I'm sure than u'll have patience for. What a funny Uncle Harry is— I screamed out loud in Interlaken when I came to tht part. There we got to Bernie & the journey deserves no mention— And now comes our reward for Nicholas' deception about the weather—after cleaning & coffee both v. good we got into our Sunday gowns for the 1^st. time in Switzerland & set off for a good trapse in Berne. It is such a [galoptious] town. I thk—so picturesque & well to do. & tht combination is rare— I replaced my waterproof wh. Nicholas & I lost between us & set off to a place  Murray says you are to go to see the Sunset on the whole range of the Bermese Oberland seen over the town—and we had such a sunset—it was the most wonderful inspired sort of scene of beauty. The wonderful range all golden & sublimed (excuse this [coined] word) above the dark town & to see the dark [escaping] up is so fine. It makes one imagine all sorts of things—like solemn music—we gave a great sigh when it is over & felt tht sort of exalted feeling one does after a red letter concert. Next day too we had most jolly fun—tho' it rained more or less— It was market day & when we set out about 10 o'clk the whole streets were like a swarm of bees & lined with fruit stalls & miles of cabbages— I thk the Bermese must be more devoted to cabbage than any other nation for there really were miles & then we went into a shop—never mind what sort—& wasted our money & had a jolly time–- At 2 o'clk we left for Fribourg to hear the organ & see what it was like—so we had to tear ourselves away at about 12.30 so as to get our lunch—for we never forget our carnal comforts. Rail to Freyburg in rain 1$\frac{1}{2}$ hours. No incident worth recording. It is such a queer town I w^d.^n't^ have missed seeing it for the world. It is all built on steep ravines & as Murray says is chiefly remarkable for its suspension bridges—wh. are [verry] lng & [verry] shaky. After [coffes] & waterproofing we set out for another trapse in the rain—the only objection to tht is tht one does get so hot in a coat of waterproof—& we got trespassing & had to go up & down precipitous streets till I nearly died tho it was so queer & pretty I didn't mind. Then after our Table d'Hote we set off for the organ—wh. praps you don't kno' is famous for its vox humana. We thought we sh^d. have had a fine time—but we were doomed to be horridly disappointed. It was just like M^r. Coward—first a terribly dull piece of improvising—no harmony so nothing but [twiddle] & tremolo on every conceivable stop—including of course the vox h. which was prettyish like nasal [choistas] a good way off. Then came a fugue which began with a good jolly Bachian theme but went off into scrimmage which was quite beyond me—& then my beloved Frank the overture to William Tell going off into a thunderstorm—part of which was like having one's brain caved in with a sledgehammer—& the rest of it was the usual scrattle representative of wind & rain one knows so well— We came out raving. Why does no organist know what an organ ought to do? Why oh why will they all twiddle on it— I will also say for M^r. Vogt that he twiddled as badly as ever I heard anybody. Of course we can hear tht some stops are peculiarly beautiful but I must say I don't thk the general effect one whit finer than many of our english organs. Hooray here is the end of my paper. Just room eno' to say it rained m. of the way here— Lake very lovely all the same. Just been down to T & fallen into the arms of Louisa Erskine— I parted with her in one swiss Pension at Nice & here we meet again in another. No other friends turned up— Tell George I expect $\frac{1}{2}$ a sheet from him & many thanks dear Fr for y^r. jolly letter. yr Retta—