But for the most part mountainous regions were regarded as places of grimness and horror. The many journeys over the Alps made in the Middle Ages by pilgrim, soldier, and trader brought forth few comments on aught else than the hardships of the way. Otto of Freising tells[997] how in September, 1155, Frederick Barbarossa’s army passed through a narrow gorge in the Alps above Verona where robbers impeded its passage. Otto’s description is very brief and simple; the road, he says, runs between high cliffs on one side and the unfordable river on the other. Gunther in the _Ligurinus_[998] elaborates on this by the copious addition of words emphasizing the terrors of the route: the narrow track wide enough for only one person at a time to proceed; on one side the “cloud-swept crags of the jagged Alps,” on the other a chaotic, whirling stream; these combined to fill the passer-by with fear. Perhaps the most striking narrative of a mountain passage dating from our period tells of the crossing of the Great St. Bernard Pass by the abbot of St. Trond and the archdeacon of Liége in 1128.[999] Having celebrated Christmas at Piacenza, the travelers arrived at the beginning of winter in the village of Restopolis (Étrouble) in the valley leading to the pass, Mons Jovis; here they were snowbound until after New Year’s Day. Finally the native guides were able to conduct them on to St. Rhémy farther up the valley close to the final ascent. “Frozen as it were in the jaws of death” they remained here a day and a night, constantly menaced by the gravest danger. The small village was full of travelers, many of whom had been overwhelmed by the avalanches which kept falling from the high cliffs on either side. Some of these unfortunates had been suffocated, and others so badly hurt that they were disabled.[1000] The ecclesiastics were obliged to spend several miserable days in this “accursed spot,” but at last they were able to prevail on their guides to lead them onward. A procession was organized, the guides in the lead, clad in thick felt hats, gloves, and with spikes in their boots to enable them to cross the ice; then came other storm-bound travelers; the horses and the clergy, who were physically the weakest, brought up the rear. Just before leaving, the party stopped for mass in a chapel. While the service was going on, ten of the guides who had gone ahead were engulfed by an avalanche and killed. This so alarmed the prelates that they retreated to Restopolis; but at last good weather came, and on January 6 they managed to get across the pass with no great difficulty.