Alexandria Gazette & Daily Advertiser

Extract of a letter to the Editor of the Boston Daily Advertiser, from a friend now in Europe, dated Loueche Baths, June 21, 1818.

Perhaps you will have seen some account of the inundation, which has just overwhelmed the fine village of Martigny, particulars of this disaster. Coming now from the scene of ruin, and being stopped on my way over the Gemmi, by a rain storm, I have thought that a leisure hour might not be ill employed in giving you a short history of this devastation. Martigny was a village in the Canton of the Valais, of about five hundred houses and three thousand inhabitants, situated upon the Rhone, exactly in the point where it changes its course from W. S. W. to N. N. W. and where it receives the Dranse, a small but rapid river, arising in the Glaciers of St. Bernard and Mount Combin. The Glacier of the latter, called Chermontana is remarkable for its height, and for the distance it extends from the summit of the mountain-the water, which comes from it, trickles down from beneath, and soon unites in the crevice of an enormous mass of rocks, and forms the eastern branch of the Dranse, which flowing thro' the valley of Bagnes, is joined by the other branch at St. Maurice, and then continues its course through Martigny to the Rhone, as before described. This Glacier has been melting underneath for some time past-- two years since considerable masses of it began to fall, but it was not till the beginning of the last month that any danger was apprehended from them--a huge block then fell and completely filled up the passage, by which a lake fifteen thousand feet long and eight hundred wide, was immediately formed, that rapidly increased in depth, and soon had more than two hundred feet of water.--This, as may be well supposed, excited great alarm, and the more, when they recollected what terrible destruction a similar obstruction had caused in 1545. Engineers were called to examine the Lake and devise some mode of gradually discharging it. They decided that the mass of ice, which blocked up the passage, must be perforated by a gallery, and the water led into the usual course of the Dranse-this was accordingly done- an hundred workmen immediately began cutting the ice, and in the course of eight or ten days a gallery of a dozen feet square was finished, which promised to discharge the lake without danger. The grand Council of the Canton immediately gave notice, that nothing more was to be feared --but it was a fatal security-the rapid flow of the water soon enlarged the passage, and at length, in the afternoon of June 16th a large piece of the glacier suddenly broke off, and the lake instantly rushed down the valley carrying with it everything which impeded its course. In one hour and a half this immense volume of water was at Martigny, a distance of twenty four miles from whence it started; and a descent of six feet to an hundred, upon an average--you will judge from this of the velocity and violence with which it moved; and as the valley is not enlarged but little, till the very entrance of this village, the overwhelming mass poured its full force upon it.

The rushing of the mighty waters was heard and reached the unhappy fugitive, before he could find a refuge from its fury -the fleetest horse could not flee before it -several who trusted to this means of escape, were overtaken, and lost: in fact, most of those who were in the fields and the streets were victims of the overwhelming flood ;-a few escaped by springing on some neighboring tree, or seizing hold of some floating timber;-the greatest part of those who remained quietly in their houses escaped unhurt, for but a small number of houses were swept away, and those only which were built of wood --all the barns, stables, and such like light buildings were overthrown almost without an exception, and hence the number of horses and cattle lost was prodigious. I did not reach the spot until two days after the calamity, but I was fully in season to see how dreadful was the havoc which had been made. The great road upon the left bank of the Rhone being still impassible, I was obliged to climb over one of Rob Roy's passes, upon the other side, which brought me out to a hill upon the bank directly opposite the village--such a scene of ruin as then lay before me, I never before witnessed--the whole of the delightful valley around Martigny, presented nothing but devastation-when I passed over it, I found every thing destroyed--not a blade of corn or spire of grass remained-- heaps of ruins, parts of houses, uprooted trees, farming utensils, mechanic's tools, furniture, merchandize from the shops, carcases of cattle, and human bodies covered the plain which a few weeks before I had seen as smiling and as fair as nature could make it.

The water had not yet wholly subsided -in many places I had to wade above knee deep, by which I understood completely why so few had saved themselves by swimming, which was before a mystery to me; it was so cold, that after wading a few hundred feet in it, I could scarcely move my legs; of course, when the whole body was plunged in, it chilled so much, that it was impossible to make the exertion --beside which, the quantity of floating wood, offered another obstacle, for I observed that the bodies which I passed were terribly bruised and mangled, and from one the head was completely torn off.

Thus far the account of things is as I saw them myself; as usual, in times of such calamities, every one adds something to the tale of distress, and therefore I cannot say with any certainty how many lives were lost by this: in Martigny itself, probably not above fifty; in the other villages of the valley, I should think a great many more. but nothing is yet known from them, as it has been impossible to approach them. I made great exertion to climb over the mountains and reach the lake, but the fog came up so thick I could not go on, and with difficulty found my way back;-I was without a guide, not a person in the village having courage enough to approach towards the scene of terror. in fact, so great was the fright, that the first messenger who was sent to know if the lake was entirely discharged, instead of going to the very spot to ascertain the fact, perched himself upon the top of a mountain several miles off, from which he spied with a glass-the remains of the glacier, and some little water in the lake, and immediately sent word that a repetition of the same was to be expected, in consequence of which all the inhabitants of Martigny fled to the mountains. so that I found but a single house inhabited on my arrival there. A second messenger was sent, who had more courage than the first, and brought back account that the lake was completely emptied, and thus quieted the alarm. If I had not been kept at Geneva, to attend a boy's exhibition, I should have had the satisfaction of witnessing this grand scene in the moment of its representation; had I set out on Sunday morning, as I intended, I should have reached there exactly in time to have seen the approach of this flood of waters. I do not know of anything which could be more sublime, than the rapid strides with which it advanced, and the giant force it exercised in sweeping away the obstacles which resisted it. I would not have had it take place for my pleasure, but as it did take place, I would have given the world to have been a spectator of it. It is melancholy to look upon the ruins which a destroying element has caused; but there is nothing grander in nature, than the sight of its march, while it is doing its work of destruction: Lot's wife shewed a natural taste, when she looked back upon Sodom and Gomorrah.

This is a curious place, from which I write to you; a sulphur spring was discovered here some centuries ago, which has since had the reputation of great virtues in cuticular complaints. and on that account much resorted to during the summer, notwithstanding the rawness of the climate. and the difficulty of access: it lies 5000 feet above the level of the sea, in one of the chasms of the Alps, and in the immediate neighbourhood of some immense glaciers. which make it extremely cold, even in mid-summer. I would not have you think I have come here for my health, I never was better in my life than I now am: it is upon the route which leads from the Valais into the Canton of Berne, and very near the pass of the Gemmi, which is my particular object.

I stopped to have fair weather to reach this summit, on account of the grand view which it commands. Bathing here is upon a very social establishment: all ages, ranks and sexes enter the baths together, which are very large, sufficient for a hundred or more at a time;-the invalids spend half a dozen hours in a day in them; where by the aid of a little floating table, they receive breakfast, dinner, &c. which serves also for books, news-papers, writing implements, or anything they may use to divert or employ them. I have been in them this morning, but as it was very early, I did not find above fifty there, who received me very civilly, and even politely, into their society, in which one simple uniform of a long white robe destroyed all distinctions.

While I have been writing, the clouds have begun to disperse, and I have yet twenty miles over the mountains before I find another resting place.

Kandersteg, 7 P. M.

The fair promises which the weather made just as I was closing the foregoing part of my letter all proved deceptive. I got away from the Baths at one, and began to ascend the Gemmi in high spirits, all my hopes being fixed upon the magnificent view I should have of the southern chain of the Alps, from Mont Blanc to Rosa. After a toil of two hours, I found myself at the summit, prepared for the highest ecstasies, when to my great mortification and disappointment, before I had hardly taken a peep, a boundless field of fog came driving over the mountains, and shut everything from my view; and the only pleasure I have since had, was to pursue my way by the side of a frozen lake, through miles of snow, in as drenching a rain as ever fell.— With all these difficulties, I walked the 20 miles in less than 6 hours, and never felt better than I do at the end of them.