As we wound around the lake of Lowertz, we saw the valley lying between the Rossberg and the Righi, which latter mountain stood full in view.  To our regret, and that of all other travelers, the clouds hung low upon it, as they had done for a week at least, and there was no prospect of a change.  The Rossberg, from which we descended, is about four thousand feet in height; a dark brown stripe from its very summit to the valley below, shows the track of the avalanche which, in 1806, overwhelmed Goldau, and laid waste the beautiful vale of Lowertz.  We could trace the masses of rock and earth as far as the foot of the Righi.  Four hundred and fifty persons perished by this catastrophe, which was so sudden that in five minutes the whole lovely valley was transformed into a desolate wilderness.  The shock was so great that the lake of Lowertz overflowed its banks, and part of the village of Steinen at the upper end was destroyed by the waters.

An hour’s walk through a blooming Alpine vale brought us to the little town of Schwytz, the capital of the Canton.  It stands at the foot of a rock-mountain, in shape not unlike Gibraltar, but double its height.  The bare and rugged summits seem to hang directly over the town, but the people dwell below without fear, although the warning ruins of Goldau are full in sight.  A narrow blue line at the end of the valley which stretches westward, marks the lake of the Four Cantons.  Down this valley we hurried, that we might not miss the boat which plies daily, from Luzerne to Fluelen.  I regretted not being able to visit Luzerne, as I had a letter to the distinguished Swiss composer, Schnyder von Wartensee, who resides there at present.  The place is said to present a most desolate appearance, being avoided by travelers, and even by artisans, so that business of all kinds has almost entirely ceased.

At the little town of Brunnen, on the lake, we awaited the coming of the steamboat.  The scenery around it is exceedingly grand.  Looking down towards Luzerne, we could see the dark mass of Mount Pilatus on one side, and on the other the graceful outline of the Righi, still wearing his hood of clouds.  We put off in a skiff to meet the boat, with two Capuchin friars in long brown mantles and cowls, carrying rosaries at their girdles.

Nearly opposite Brunnen is the meadow of Grutli, where the union of the Swiss patriots took place, and the bond was sealed that enabled them to cast off their chains.  It is a little green slope on the side of the mountain, between the two Cantons of Uri and Unterwalden, surrounded on all sides by precipices.  A little crystal spring in the centre is believed by the common people to have gushed up on the spot where the three “linked the hands that made them free.”  It is also a popular belief that they slumber in a rocky cavern near the spot, and that they will arise and come forth when the liberties of Switzerland are in danger.  She stands at present greatly in need of a new triad to restore the ancient harmony.