Since Ann Walker’s Diary for the years 1834 to 1835 (not all months) was recently discovered; mislabelled by some Archivists who thought they were written by Lister I share a part of a letter by Lister & Walker from Switzerland. I hope the reader thereby can get a glimpse of Walker’s own thoughts. The recipient was Lister’s aunt but I guess the lady whom Walker addresses as ”My dear aunt” may be her elderly aunt Ann Walker who died in 1847. Walker simply continued the letter were Lister signed off. The letter in question was written from Geneva, Tuesday evening, the 22 of July 1834.
The discovery of Ann Walker’s Diary shows several entries related to Walker & Lister travels in France and Switzerland. The letter was likely transcribed by Muriel Green and chosen for her publication of Anne Lister letters.
This is a good opportunity for you, dear reader of this blog, to hear Ann Walker’s historical voice.
My dear aunt,
Anne has told you our route over the mountains, but I find she has not given you any description of the magnificent hotels we met with. At Mottets we slept between the cows and the hay loft, and at the village des Ferret there were two rooms, for us, guides, George, and the poor widow with eight children. We thought at first George must sleep at the foot of our bed, but a bed was at last contrived for him in the room with the family and the guides.
In our little apartment, which was so low, that we could touch the ceiling with our hands when we were in bed, we had two sickly children that cried a great part of the night.
The people were very civil and attentive, and we were really very tolerably comfortable, and I assure you these little adventures not only served us to laugh at, at the time, but they made us feel the comfort and value afterwards, of a good hotel.
I am sure you would have been very much amused if you could have seen us in our mountain scrambles trudging sometimes almost up to our knees in snow; on passing one of the declivities George, who was shewing off his agility in getting over the snow, unfortunately slipped, and down he went for a considerable distance, and must have gone to the bottom, but for a piece of rock against which he contrived to stop himself.
There was no danger, and he was not in the least hurt, perhaps it made him a little more careful afterwards. I asked George one day how he liked the mountains, and if he had ever seen any so high before; he told me yes, he thought the mountain we were then upon (the Brevent), a very fine one, was very like one of the Hambledon Hills called the White Mare. I think I may quite assure you, that you have no occasion to feel anxious now about Anne’s health, I think I may say she is quite well, certainly better than I have known her in England. As for myself, I expect to surprise everybody on my return…Ann Walker.
Source
Lister, Anne, and Muriel M. Green. 1992. Miss Lister of Shibden Hall: selected letters (1800-1840). Lewes: Book Guild.
Fragments : From the Diaries of Anne Lister (1791-1840) 