Free Leading the Blind by Alan; Sillitoe

of the magistrates of Geneva, his “ Emile ” and “ Contrat Social ” were burnt in 1763 by the hangman.’
    Well might Dostoevsky, in a letter to his sister, complain that ‘Geneva is a dull, gloomy, Protestant, stupid town with a frightful climate, but very well suited for work.’
    If our traveller came towards Mont Blanc from the Valley of Aosta he would find that it was ‘more perhaps than any other in Piedmont afflicted in a horrid degree with cretinism and goitre. Nowhere are they more prevalent than in this beautiful valley. The peasantry appear squalid and filthy a race of beings generally stunted and diseased. Of the whole population in the neighbourhood of Aosta, one in fifty is a cretin; and above half are more or less goitred. Some of these are horrid objects. Tumours as large as their heads are appended to their throats, varying in number, size, and colour. The dirt, deformity, and imbecility of the inhabitants presented a scene so wretched, that it harrowed our feelings. Not a well-dressed or decent-looking person is to be met with; all bear the marks of poverty, disease, and wretchedness; and this too amidst scenes for which nature has done so much. Something weighs upon the people like a curse. Many conjectures have been offered upon the cause of goitres and cretinism. Labour, food, water, air, have all been offered in explanation; but none of these account for it satisfactorily. The opinion of our guide was, that it was chiefly owing to the villainously dirty habits of the people most afflicted with it. He said that among the mountaineers this was the general opinion; and though it sometimes descended in families, and often was observed in infancy, yet it might be traced to the filthy habits of preceding generations.’ Similar views were expressed in later editions but, by the end of the century, guidebooks had ceased referring to the disease, which suggested that it had more or less died out.
    To reach Chamonix and Mont Blanc from Geneva Baedeker recommends taking the diligence as far as St Gervais, then walking the rest of the way in six or seven hours over a five-thousand-foot col – no great feat for a pedestrian, then or now. The highway is, however, ‘beset by all sorts of vagabonds, who plant themselves in the way openly as beggars, or covertly as dealers in mineral specimens, guides to things which do not require their aid, dealers in echoes, by firing small cannon where its reverberation may be heard two or three times. Such idle nuisances should be discountenanced.’
    All guidebooks gave advice on walking, suggesting that inexperienced Alpine travellers should accustom themselves, for some time before they set out, to look down from heights and over precipices, ‘so that, when they really enter upon a dangerous path, the eye may be familiarized with the depths of the abyss, and the aspect of danger, and the head relieved from vertigo which the sudden sight of a precipice is otherwise apt to produce’.
    No one should attempt to cross a glacier without a guide, who must always be allowed to take the lead. Only double-soled boots should be worn, Murray says, ‘with iron heels and hob-nails; the weight of a shoe of this kind is counter balanced by the effectual protection afforded to the feet against sharp rocks and loose stones, which cause contusions.’
    Blistered feet should be rubbed with spirits before going to bed, ‘mixed with tallow dropped from a candle into the palm of the hand; on the following morning no blister will exist. The spirits seem to possess the healing power, the tallow serving only to keep the skin soft and pliant. To prevent the feet blistering, it is a good plan to soap the inside of the stocking before setting out.’
    Baedeker says that, in spite of possible discomforts: ‘The pedestrian is of all travellers the most capable, both physically and morally, of enjoying a tour in Switzerland. The first