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Columbia University Uibrary reser\^es the right to refuse to accept a cop\ order If, hi its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright kivA AUTHOR: INGLIS, HENRY DAVID TITLE : SWITZERLAND, THE SOUTH OF FRANCE PL A CE : LONDON DA TE : 1840 CC^l.trMHIA HNl\'[ax-;iTY UHKARIHS rix!::s!:!xVA!U)N Dhl'AR'l'Mi'NT BIllUOGRAt'lllC MK UOFORM f.\i((,i. i Master Mega five ii Original Mitpria! as Filmed - Rxisting 15iblu)i;i 'phic Record Restrictions on Use: ■n TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA I'H.M SlZl';: IMAGI-:ri,ACEMENT: lA J!_A IB TIB I) A T I •; I • 1 1 , M F D : AliCi/ !■■ 1 ^: ! ) I ; (■ r I ( ) a r a t i 0:__J/J(_j^ INMTlAi.S S._^Ji. 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Br AUTHOR OF SOLITARY WALKS THROUGH MANY LANDS," " NORWAY AND SWEDEN," " JOURNEY THROUGH IRELAND," &c. ; i;ulRTii J:.D1T1UN. LONPOX WTKTTAKi:!^ AiNi> CO., AA 1-: MAlUA LAxN^E. MJJCCCXL. f^' s> ;) A'/ '/ :;A;W'l.) : J I () N n N : (.ILliHIil iV KlVlN(il()N, IT.INll.KS, sr. John's squauk. ^ C () JS J' i: iN T 8. Introduction. PAGE ... vii CHAPTER 1. THE TOWN AND CANTON OF UASIL, AND THE CANTON OF AIKiOVIE. Arrival in Ba>il— General Aspect of the T(Avn and its Inhabitants— The Dress of the Women— The Bridge of the llhine— The Cathedral, and the View from its Terrace— An liistorical Anecdote— Productions and Constitution of the Canton, and the Domestic Eco- nomy of the Inhabitants— Journey from Basil to Zu- rich—Baden—Strange Law respecting Dancing— A Wedding Party— The Village of Dieteken, and its freedom from bigotry— Arrival at Zurich 1 CHAPTER II. THE TOWN, LAKE, AND CANTON OF ZURICH. The Pilgrims of Einsiedeln— Extraordinary Industry of the Inhabitants of Zurich in the Cultivation of the Soil, and Proofs of it— Zurich Society and Amuse- ments — General aspect of the Town, its Edifices, &c. —Zurich as a Residence, Price of Provisions, &-c. — The Lake, and its Scenery— An Evening Prospect- Swiss Music— Constitution of the Canton, and Do- mestic Economy of the Inhabitants— Excursions to the Neighbourhood— The Grietfen See 3 CHAPTER III. THE TOWN, LAKE, AND CANTON OF ZOUG. Walk to Zoug— More Proofs of the extraordinary In- dustry of the Zurichers— An Anecdote that may teach humility— The Town of Zoug— Its Inhabitants and Environs— A Hint to Phrenologists— Prices of Provi- sions at Zoug— Expenses of the Government, and Constitution of the Canton — Return to Horgen 7 CHAPTER IV. EINSIEDELN. Journey through the Canton of Schwytz to Einsiedeln — A Rencontre — The Abbey, Church, and Village of Ein- siedeln — Concourse of Pilgrims — Dresses — Customs — Procession — the Fair — I'articulars respecting the Con- vent — The Miraculous Image — The Adorations paid to it— Bull of Pope Leo VIII. — The Revenues of the Abbey, and their various sources — Credulity of the People— Effects of the Pilgrimage upon the Agricul- ture of the Catholic Cantons of Switzerland — Journey from Einsiedeln to Glarus — Rapperschwyl Bridge — Beggars, and Swiss Independence — The Mountains of Glarus 8 I'AGE CHAPTER V. THE CANTON OF GLARUS. The Valley of Glarus— The Town— Character of Swiss Irms — Anecdote — Singular Laws in tl;e Canton — Law respecting Inheritance — Laws respecting Education — Poor-Laws — Protestant and Catholic Clergy — Salaries of Clergy and Schoolmasters— Revenues of the Canton — Taxes and Expenditure — Extraordinary Laws re- specting Marriage — Prices of Provisions in Glarus — Journey up the Linthall — Character of the upper part of Glarus — Details respecting Schabzieger Cheese — Condition of the Inhabitants of theValley of the Linth — Pantenbrugge — Scenery at the Head of Glarus— Return to Glarus — Excursion to Klonthail — and Jour- ney to Wesen .' n CHAPTER VI. CANTON OF ST. GALL — THE GRISONS. The W- alien see— Journey to St. Gall— Pilgrims— St. Gall and its Manufactures — Peculiar Laws of St. Gall — Cheapness of Property — Voyage from Wesen to Wal- lenstadt— Character of the Lake, and Accident by the way — Arrival at Chur— Chur and its neighbourhood — The Bishopric— State of the Inhabitants, Mer- chants, Lawyers, Physicians — Journey from Chur to the Ensadine, across Mount Albula — An Anecdote — Details respecting Grison Liberty, and the National Character of the Grisons— Revenues and Expenditure of the Canton 14 CHAPTER VII. COUNTRY OF THE GRISONS. Bergun — Scene in a Village Inn— Traits of Character — Grison Enjoyments — The Passage of Mount Albula, — Valley of Albula, Ascent, and Scene of extraordinary Sublimity— Descent towards the Engadine— Charming Prospect — Visit to a Mountain Dairy, and Details- Arrival in the Ober Engadine 16 CHAPTER VIII. COUNTRY OF THE GRISONS — THE OBER AND UNTER ENGADINE. The Valley of the Ober Engadine, and the River Inn — Character of the Valley, and Rural Economy — Grison Villages and Houses — Fernetz — Suss — Grison Women — State of the Inhabitants of the Engadine — Inns and Shops — Intelligence of many of the Natives — Domestic Economy of the Inhabitants of the two Engadines — Winter in the Engadine, and Grison Society — Privi- ^> n I PAGE leges peculiar to the Villages— Contentment of the Natives— Scenery of the Unter Engadine— CUiarda— Character of the Valley of the Unter Engadine, and its Productions— Fettam, and its Professor— Details respecting the Grison Youth, and their search after Fortune- Education in tlie Engadine— The Clergy- Journey to the Foot of the Valley ^9 ( i; i\. THE COUNTRY OF THE GIUSUNS— THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER RHINE. Return to Chur, through the Engadines— Instance of Gross Imposition— The Baths of Pleffers— State of Society in Cliur— Reunions and Balls— Statistical De- tails—Journey up the llheinwald by the Sources of the Rhine— Character of the Valley of the Upper Rhine — Charming Scenery — I lanz — Grison Imposi- tion— Examples of Dishonesty— Road to Dissentis— Picture of Idleness— Domestic Economy of the Inha bitants of the Valley of the Upper Rhine— Wages of Labour — Dissentis 24 CHAPTER X. THE ORISONS. The Scenery of the Lower and the Upper Rhine com- pared— Dissentis, and tlie Valley of Tavetch— Life in the remote Alpine Valleys— Passage of the Moun- tains — Ciamut— The Rhine near its Sources — Ob- servations upon the Sources of Rivers, and Description of the Sources of the Rhine- Mountain Prospects— The Lake of the Oberalp, and Sources of the Reuss— A dangerous Bog— Descent into the Canton of Uri— The Valley of Ursern 29 CHAPTER XI. THE CANTON OF URI — THE VALLEY OF THE REUSS. Andermatt, and the Valley of Ursern— Rural Economy- Descent of the Valley of the Reuss— The Devil's Bridge— Neglected state of Agriculture, and the causes of it— Scenery of the Valley— Altorf, and its connexion with William Tell— Fluelen, and the Lake of Uri— An Evening on the Lake— Tell's Chapel- Character of the Lake of ITri— Comparison between the Lakes of Switzerland and Swiss Scenery, with the Scenery of the Scotch and English Lakes 31 ClIAl'TEll XII. THE CANTON, LAKE, AND CITY OF LUCERNE. Till' I.ikr of tlic Four Cantons — Historic Recollections — Hriiiiiu II Schwytz— Visit to the Valley of Lauertz, and the Site of (Joldau — The Fall of the Hossherg — Some Details, and Reflections — Return to Bruiinen, and Voyage to Lucerne — Gersau and its History — The Riiii — r,u((rne — The Situation and Environs of Lu- rerne-Markets, and Prices (if Provisions — Bridges — i'litilic Se!inii.uics -State of MoraK — The Moiiuincnt in Comnieiuoration of the S\vi>s (iuards — Churches and Relics — Promenades— Stale of tlie Canton — At- tempt to Ascend Mount Pilate 33 CHAl'TER Mil. r.KUNK. Journey from Lucerne to Berne— Tlie Zeiiipeaclifr- Zee — Appearance of Hfriie- Pre]>arat;ioiis for Opening the Diet — Arrival of the Deiiuties-'i'lie Platforni of the Cathedral, and view of the Oberland Bernois - The Markets and Prices of Provisions — Berne as a Kesi- denee — Sunday in Berne — St. Christophe — The Tira^re Federal — Crime and Punishment ~ Anecdote — The ()])fniiig of the Diet -Honours rendered to Ladies — Details respecting tlie Opening; Ceremonies — Public Opinion and Political Party in Swit/erland 3'J PAGE (Ml \i'Ti:i; \\v. BERNE — ST. PETER's ISLE — HOFWYL. Reasons for preferring Berne as a Residence — Society of Berne — Public Establishments — Excursion to the Lake of Bienne and Rousseau's Isle — Aarberg — The Lake — Character of St. Peter's Isle — Reflections — Return to Berne — Excursion to Hofwyl — Details re- specting the Estatilishmcnt — Canton of Berne 44 CiiAi'liJi. XV. THE OBERLAND BERNOIS. Journey from Benie to Interlaken — Thun and its Lake — Unterseen. and the Plain of Interlaken — Inns and Boarding Houses — Interlaken as a Residence — Scenery — Mutability of Fashion — Journey by the Wen- gem Alp and the Sheideck — Lautcrbrunnen and its Valley — The Stubbaeh — Cheese-making — Moun tain Scenery— The Jungfrau— The Silver Horns— The Wet- terhorn — Mount Eiger — Details respecting the Ascent of the Jungfrau — Night Views — Mountain Legend — Effects of a Glacier — Descent towards Grindelwald 47 CHAPTER XVI. THE OBERLAND BERNOIS — THE CANTONS OF FRIBOURG AND VAUD. The Glaciers of Grindelwald— Excursion on the Mer de Glace, and Details respecting the Death of M. Mou- ron— State of the Inhabitants of the Valley of Grin- delwald, and strange Laws and Usages peculiar to it — Return to Interlaken— Escape of a Schoolmaster — Valley of the Black Leutchen— Visit to the Lake of Brientz— The Griesbach— The Evils of Imagination— Brientz— A Moonlight Sail, and Return to Interla- ken — Journey from Interlaken to Vevay, by the Sem- menthall—Spietz—Wimmiss— Character of the Sem- menthall — Saanenland, Gruyere, and Gruyere Cheese — Descent to the Lake of Geneva — Vevay 51 Cil AllER XVII. THE LAKE, CITY, AND CANTON OF GENEVA. Lake Leman and its Phenomena — Visit to Chillon — Cla- rens — Rousseau — Byron — Enchanting Scenery — Lau- sanne — Lausanne as a Residence — John Kemble — Gibbon's Library — Geneva — Manners and Morals of the Genevese — the City and Canton — Voltaire 55 CllAl'IKli Will. FROM GENEVA n> l.VONS LYONS. Change of Scenery in passing from Switzerland into France — The Perte de la Bhone — Lyons — The Quay of the Rhone — The Inhabitants — Paris Influence — The Quay of the Soane— Fourviers 59 CilAI'Ti:K MX. DF^'^CKNT OF Tin: ItllONK. Scenery of the Rhone between Lyons and Vieiiiie — The Cote Roti Vineyard — Commerce on ilie Rhone — Indications of Heat, atid Discomforts -Dauphiny and Laiiguedor — The •'Hermitage" Vineyard — Va- lence— St. Peray Vineyards — Sulferings from Heat— .\c( i(h'iits — Dangerous Navigation of the Rhone — The Rapid of the Pout de St. Ksjjrit — Scenery — Ajijiroach to Avignun, and Arrival — .More Accidents GO CHAPTER XX. AVltiNO.N. The Charms of Narrow Streets — The Influence of Cli mate upon the Usages of Countries — The I'alace of the Popes— Filthiness of Avignon—Observations upon the Scenery of France, and upon the .Misrepresenta- tions of Travellers and Homanciers^ — The duty of ex- posing F^rror — the Environs of Avignon — The State of the City <■'■< CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER XXL VAUCLUSE. Claims of Petrarch upon the Gratitude of Posterity- Journey to I'lsle and Vaucluse-The Valley of Vau- cluse— The Fountain— Grandeur of the Scenery- Petrarch's Gardens— His way of Life— His House- Monument at the Village-Trait of the Duchess d'An- gouleme— The Bise Wind of Provence the Circms of the Ancients— Return to Avignon 65 CHAPTER XXII. JOURNEY TO NISMES — NISMES. Ignorance of some Travellers— Journey to the Pont de Gard— Its Magnificence— Arrival at Nismes— Neces- sary Privations— Character of Nismes— Its Antiqui- ties—Errors upon the subject of French Politeness 68 CHAPTER XXIII. MONTPELI ER — NARBONNE. Montpelier, its Climate and Reputation— Montpelier as a Residence— A Jour de Fete— Apparent Inconsist- encies of French Character— Journey to Narbonne-— Cette, and its Manufactory of Wines — La Maladie Noir — Bezieres— French Brandy Manufactories — Narbonne — Narbonne Honey— Fruit-Markets— Jour- ney to Perpignan— The Mediterranean— Perpignan and its Population— the Citadel— French Opinions of Prussia and Flngland — Expenses in the South of France — Journey to Carcassone — " Hair-breadth 'scapes " — Quillan — Limoux — Champagne du Midi — Carcassone — Husbandry in Languedoc 71 CHAPTER XMV. THOULOUSE. The Markets of Thoulouse, and Market-People— Fruit in England and on the Continent— Place du Capitale— The Floral Games — The Dark Ages — Clemensa Isaure, and her Poetry— Institutions and Churches— Thoulouse as a Residence — Prices of Provisions 75 CHAPTER XXV. JOURNEY FROM THOULOUSE — LOURDES, AND ARGELES. Country to the South of Thoulouse — Auch — Tarbes and its Inhabitants— The Plain at the Foot of the Pyrenees — Lourdes — Tradition — The Defile of Lonrdes. and Entrance to the Mountains — The Valley of Argeles — Argeles and its Inhabitants CHAPTER XXVI. ARGELES TO LUZ AND ST. S.M'VKl li. Boute to Pierrehtte— St. Savin— St. Orens— tlie Defile of Pierrehtte— The Cradle of Luz— Matchless Sce- nery — St. Sauveur — Expenses and Comforts — The 78 Waters of St. Sauveur 81 CHAPTER XXVII. THE PYRENEES. Situation and Extent of tlie Pyrenees — Height of the Summits — Mines — Valleys of the l\vrenecs, and their Productions — Roads — Comparison between the Sce- nery of Switzerland .iiid the Pyrenees, and Reasons whv the Pvrenees are little visited 83 THK CHAPTER XXVI 11. I.MIAUITANTS OF THK PYRKNEE.S. Manner of Life of the Pyrenean Mountaineer — His Winter and Sumnier Habitations — His Industry — Dress — Hospitality — Morals^Sliort Summary of the Hislor) and present State of the Cagots 85 PAGE CHAPTER XXIX. BAREGES THE VALLEY 01- BASTAN AM) CAMPAN. The Valley of Bareges— Devastations of the Gave de Bastan— Bareges, its Inhabitants and its Waters — Journey to the Lake d'Oncet— Old Usages— The Milk of the PjTenees — Mountain Scenes — The Lake d'Oncet— Mountaineers— Difficult Path— The Tour- malet — Character of the Valley of Campan 88 CHAPTER XXX. BAGNERES DE BIGORRE ASCENT OF THE PIC DU MIDI. Bagneres de Bigorre— Its Visitors, Attractions, and Waters— Journey from Bagneres to Grip, and Morn- ing Scenes— Ascent of the Pic du Midi— View from the Summit— Remarks, and Comparison of different Views from different Mountains— Temperature— De- scent, and Return to St. Sauveur 91 CHAPTER XXXI. THE VALLEY OF GAVARNIE — MARBORE — THE BRECHE DE ROLAND, AND THE VALLEY OF HEAS. An Izard-hunter, and his Conversation— The Shepherds and their Flocks— The Valley of Pragneres— The Pe- rj'ada — The Inn of Gavarnie — The Amphitheatre of Marbore— Ascent of the Br^che de Roland, and View into Spain— Return to Gavarnie and Gedro- The Val- ley of Heas, and a Fete 94 CHAPTER XXXII. JOURNEY TO CAUTERETS — CAUTERETS. Journey across the Mountains— Lakes of the Pyrenees— A Night in a Hut— Arrival at Cauteret.s— Situation of Cauterets— Baths, and Medicinal Waters— The Gave de Cauterets— Return to St. Sauveur by the Vigne- male and Gavarnie 97 CHAPTER XXXIII. JOURNEY TO BAGNERES DE LOUCHON— BAGNERES DE LOUCIION. The ideal and the real of Travelling— Journey to Ar- reau — Marbriere — Arreau, and the Valley of the Aure— The Family of Armagnac- Journey to Bag- ndres de Louchon— The Valley of Louchon— The Baths--The Waters, and Opinions of Physicians- Visit to the Lakes of Seculejo, and the Espingo 99 CHAPTER XXXIV. BIERETZ. Bayonne and its Advantages as a Residence— Travel- ling en Cacolet— Road to Bieretz— Situation of Bie- retz— The Coast— The Bay of Biscay, in Calm and in Storm— A Perilous Situation— Views round Bieretz— Bieretz as a Sea-bathing Place— Curious Usages— Pro- menades in the Neighbourhood— Other Excursions— A Fete du Village— Pleasures of a Sejour at Bieretz CHAPTER XXXV. J(U UNEY PROM BAGNERtlS DE LOUCHON TO PAU, Retrospect— Journey from Bagneres de Louchon to Bag- neres de Bigorre— The Garonne— A Tradition of the Holy War.s— Journey to Pau— St. Pe— Betharam and its Cavalry— French Honesty— The Province of Beam and its Productions— Approach to Pau CHAPTER XXXVI. PAU. Environs of Pau— Pau as a Residence— The Chateau of Henri Ouatre— The King's Cradle— Journey from Pau to Bourdeaux — French Accommodation — First-rate and Inferior Inns f08 102 106 d VI CONTENTS. PACE CHAPTER XXXVII. BOLKDKAUX. Bourdeaux little visited—Historical Sketch— Clim.tte and Air of Bourdeaux— The Quay and Bridge— Table of the Comparative Dimensions of Bridges — The Theatre — The New Hospital — Churches — Learned Societies — Public Instruction — Antiquities — Situation and Environs— Condition of the Peasantry— The In- habitants of the Landes— Society in Bourdeaux— The Cliateau de Montesquieu I CHAPTER XXXVIII. THK WINKS OF UOrRDHAtX. Classification of the Wines of Bourlanatory of its origin and constitution, seem almost a necessary introduction to the j)erusal of any book treating of Switzerland. The basis of that Federative Republic, which was secured to the twenty-two cantons of Switzerland by the peace of 1815, was laid so early as the beginning of the 14th century ; for it was at that epoch, that the small territories of Uri, Schwytz, and Unterwald, bound themselves in a holy league, to shake off the fetters imposed upon them by their Austrian mastei-s ; and the attempt of this petty confederacy having proved successful, it was strengthened, before the middle of the 14th century, by the accession of Lucerne, Zurich, Glarus, Zoug, and Berne. The basis of this ancient league was a love of independence ; and the separate states were bound together by no other general laws, than by that simple treaty of alliance, whoso foundation, strength, and object, consisted in the love of freedom. Gradually, as success in anus more and more assured the liberties of the Confederates, they sought to consolidate the league, by the enactment of wise laws among themselves, and to strengthen it, by an alliance with neighbouring states. Accordingly, St. Gall, Bienne, the Grisons, the Valais, Geneva, Neufchatel, part of Basil, and Appenzell, became the allies of the Confederated States, though not at first forming a part of the league. Many reverses were experienced by the Confederated States during the centuries that followed, in defence of the principle that had first united them ; and there is certainly not exhibited in the history of any other people so unconquerable a love of liberty, as that which has continued to animate the Swiss during a period of four centuries— shown in success and in adversity ; nor forgotten even at those epochs, when security had begotten repose, and when the spoils of war had spread the entanglements of luxury. Although at first the ancient league showed some jealousy in admitting other states to a participation j in all its privileges, this narrow policy speedily yielded to more enlarged views. Fribourg and Soleure were admitted among the Confederates soon after the important victory gained at Morat over the renowned duke of Burgundy, in the reign of Louis XI. ; and, about twenty years later, Basil, Shaff. hausen, and Appenzell, strengthened the league, by their accession to it. After some ages of peace, the Swiss Confederacy became endangered, not by ambition of foreign foes, but by the designs of some of its most powerful citizens ; and the league would probably have offered another exam}>le of the fate of republics, if the French Revolution, so fertile both in good and evil, had not led to its partial conservation. Napoleon, in 1803, promulgated his act of mediation ; which, although failing to establish the Swiss Confederacy upon a secure basis of liberty and union, yet had the effect of preserving it from the designs of the ambitious. A feeble attempt to establish an oligarchy in some of the cantons, and an aristocracy in others, was made at the time when the last struggle between France and the rest of Eiiroi)e spread a feeling of uncertainty throughout the Continent, and when Switzerland was inundated with foreign troops. But public opinion opposed the design ; and the fall of Napoleon W' Mil INTRODUCTION. soon in . ..1 f , f tl... .itt-iirs of Europe, and to tlu' act of confederacy, framed ,n iffpr Ipd to the f^enera Bettleinent oi the attaiis oi r.uioi i , .n alter, lea to int ^t, conquests .)f France were restored to in IRli andratitiedbvtheCongressat Vienna, b\^N hit li all tnc con 111 ,,..,, :r;,:: l .He LepUo„ :, «. v.*,. o^ ewe...., ,W.„ ...a ..0 VaUen... . a^^^^^^ ,^e,W .. „. .,.euo..ea >^,.e o.. ^ ^ j^ ::r ix^ ^ t^^s^nx:^:^^^ S.. Thefollow n'^are the nrmcipal pomts emuiacKi i\> iiR • , ,i. . co„^«U *•, »; deCa Jl to Le unite,,, for the ,.efe,.ce of t,...U- lir.cHies a..,, .,„U,,e,.,le..ee, a.a„.s, , . tet ." orei... c.,e.„-,es, a,.., for tl.o n,ai.,te„a,.ce of n.ten.a, eo.,eo,.,. ,„..„. .vs,,ee..v. te.-n, ... • a .rers,it..tio.,B are reeirroeally ,„ava..tee„, a..,, .leelare.l i.-violaWe^a..., the, are ,x,u.k1 .....ect. el, far eertai.. co..,n, J..t. i,. troops a.,,, mooev, aeeor.Ung to a .ea,e of their „o,,.,h.t.o.. a,„. r.ei.es. Th .ilitary ehest, a.,d the funds arising fro.n the ent.-.v of foreign „,e..ehand..e are p aeed .,.,der the lirLionof certai. eo,n...issio.,e.. ..an.ed hy the di.-t ; a..d, i.. ease of danger, a..y .n,l,v,dua. ea,.ton .na. ra,.d assistance fro,n the ,.e,gh. ring eanto.,s. The Ca..to..s of Zorieh, »er,.e, Kr,ho..rg. B,ts, an Geneva onlv, are pern.itted to have a pen.,a..e„t n.ili.ary foree ; a.,d that foree .s so sn,all, that t, e :^i s of • wit.e land are certai.,ly not endangered hy a standing arn.y. T,,e who.e foree amou.,ts hn to 72« .nen. In the other cantons, there is a sn^all n.iUtia in which the c..,«.,.s serve. 1 he great diet of Switzerland is co,..posed of deputies f..„.n the twenty-two states, every canton possess.ng one vo.ce ,hrou.h its principal represctativc. which he gives according to the .ns,r.,ct,o..s he has recv.ved, a,.,l „ ,:i el,.al ■•espo.Lihili.y. To the diet, wi.ich assc.hlcs every year, helongs the r.ght of deelanng war a,.d peace -, a..d of concl,..h,.g f<.reig.. allia..ces, of na.nh.g ambassa.krs, and of prov.dn.g gene,-all.v for the safety of the league agah.st fo,-eign and do,.,estic e..e,nies. In i,npor.a,.t n.attcs, such as a quest.o.. of peace or war, three-fourths of the cantons ,nust sa..ction the proposal; hut i.. ord.nary n.atters, a plurality suffices. The presidency of the ea.,tons is shared hy the Ca..tons of Znneh, icr,.c, and L..eer.,e, Iho alternately cjoy the disth.etio,.. The ca..to..s are sovereign and i.,depe..de..t of each o he,-, a..., a e each govcr,.ed hy co.,stitutions peculiar to then.selves ; hut, al,ho,.gh they have the power o ...d.v., ..ally fo,™ing treaties with .teighh«n,.i,.g forcig.. states, these m..st he h. acco.danee w.th the fe, leral act, a,.d not inc:..siste.,t with the privileges of other ca„to..s. The prh.ciplc of free trade hctwcen the ca..tons .s fullv provided for ; and the only ,.. her article necessary to he ,nentio.,ed is, that the ex.steuco of he convents, of ecclesiastical rights, a,.d the secri.y of church p.-opcr.y, are guaranteed. Such are the heads of the act of eo.,fede..ey, which was accon.pa..ied hy a.,otl.er act, sig,.,.d hy the ,,le.npote„ .ar.es of (ireat Britai.,, France, A..stria, Russia, IVt.ssia, a..d Portugal, hy which the IcderaUve Kepuhhc of Switzerland is expressly aclcowh-dged, and its territory guai-mteed. 'id * SWITZERLAND,''**^ ^^'^ ^ VVn- f THE SOUTHERN PROVINCES OF FRANCE, AND THE PYRENEES. CHAPTER I. THE TOWN ANO C.VMON OF BASIL, AND THE CANTON OF ARdOVlE. Arrival in Basil— General aspect of the Town and its Inhabitants— The Dress of the Women— The Bridge of the inline— The Cathedral, and the ^■iew from its Terrace —An historical Anecdote- Productions and Constitution of tlie Canton, and the Domestic Economy of the Inhabit- ants— Journey from Basil to Zurich— Baden— Strange Law i respecting Dancing-A Wedding Party— The village of j Dieteken, and its freedom from bigotry— Arrival at Zurich. I T WALKED into Basil amid torrents of rain ; the .'Streets were alnio.st entirely deserted ; and, being Sunday morning, the shops were closed. Every thing, 'in short, wore a cheerless aspect; but tiie consciousness that I was in Switzc^rland— the novel ai)i)earance of every thing around— the ghmpse.s which, at sudden openings, I occasionally caught of tiie majestic Rhine rolling its vast volume of water parallel with the street, and sweeping the gardens of the citizens— left no room for repining at the unfavourable circumstances under which I made my entrance into the Swiss republic : an excellent breakfast too, at the hofef de Chjo'jne, where I tasted good bread for the first time since leaving Eng- land ; still farther reconciled me to a wet day, and a Swiss Sunday. But soon after mid-day the sun broke out, and in a moment the aspect of every thing was changed. The morning service, too, being ended, the streets were tilled with the devout Basilois liastening from church to dinner, which, throughout almost every part of Switzerland, is served precisely at half-past twelve. Let this piece of information be a caution to the traveller who wishes to enjoy his dinner, not to breakfast late, or indulge too freely in the luxuries of a Swiss fr'uhfituck or dtjcune, l)ecause every one is not able to adopt the inaxim laid down by a certain French gastn.nome, which says, " Breakfast as if you were not to dine ; and dine as if you had not break- fasted." Basil, although well built, charmingly situated, and containing many fine edifices, is not one of the most interesting of the Swiss towns : it is too near P' ranee to exhibit a true picture of a Swiss town, either in its external aspect, or in the manners of the inhabitants. Yet, to the traveller who arrives in this part of Switzerland by way of France, there is much both to admire and to interest. Descend- ing into the street from the hotel, with the intention of finding my way to the cathedral, I was forcibly struck with the sui)eriority of the Swiss women over the French, both in features and in dress. I would say, in form too ; but this would scarcely be just, because the French female peasantry dress in such wretched taste, that it is possible many a perfect form may be disfigured by the imperfec- tions of its covering ; and let us charitably suppose that such is the fact. The coifure of the women of Basil pleased me. In place of tying a handkerchief close round the head, as is the almost invariable custom in the French provinces, or of covering the hair with tinsel ornaments, as is usual on the Ger- man frontier, the Swiss, at least the Basilois, adopt the simple mode of fixing a bow of broad black ribbon a little forward from the crown of the head, allowing the two vandyked ends to fall halfway down the forehead. This does not disfigure a pretty face, and sets off a plain one. I did not find the taste of the Basilois so conspicuous in every thing else. Although the rain had ceased, they still earned their umbrellas unfurled, to dry them ; and these exhibited more than all the coloui-s of the rainbow. The favourite colours were bright red, yellow, and pink ; nor did the ladies of Basil show more tase in colonic, than the women in humbler ranks. Their parasols exhibited quite as gaudy an array, and, being silk, the colours were even brighter. In walking through the streets of Basil, I found that scarcely one was without its fountain, which jetted the clearest water, in three or four streams, into a large oval stone basin, full to the brim ; this, if it does not actually diffuse coolness, is at least associated with it, and is, at all events, refreshing to the eye. In place of making my way to the ca- thedral, 1 found myself upon the bridge— a level wooden bridge, supported by stone abutments, which crosses the Rhine, and leads into the territory of Baden. I found this a charming promenade : the streets being wet, the inhabitants resorted to it in preference. I had thus the advantage of seeing, at the same time, the prospect up and down the river, and the inhabitants of Basil in their Sunday clothes. The river flows with such rapidity, and with so much force beneatli the bridge, that one almost trembles for its security. 1 had the pleasure, in the aftei-noon, of partaking of the hospitalities of , to whom I carried a letter of introduction, and whose magnificent man- sion is situated upon an eminence commanding a charming view of the Rhine, and the adjacent country. This gentleman possesses one of the finest B '> BASIL. [chap. I. follection of pictuJ.'S in Switzerland. 1 found among tlicni clioic*' wiirks of (luido, KuVuiis, Andrcn-dol- Sartii, Carlo Dolco, Woiivcrnums, Kiiysduel, Cu} p, Berghem, Renibrandt, and many others. I would stroniily advise the traveller to visit this gallery : he will find, in the two pietures of Ruysdael alone, ample compensation for his time. A little before sunset, I found my way to the neighbourhood of the cathedral, where a terrace planted with chestnut-trees overhangs the Rhine, which flows about two hundred feet below. Here I enjoyed a charming prospect, not altogether of a Swiss landscape, but in which were mingled some of the features of Swiss scenery. A deliglitful little plain, covered with thickets and small coun- try-houses, extended from the opposite bank of the river to the foot of the hills which stretch through the territory of Baden. These formed a fine back-ground, chequered as they were by sunshine and shade. Up and down the Rhine, the gardens of the citizens, full of choice shrubs and flowers, sloped down to the river side ; while on o\u) bank, the picturesque buildings of Little Basil, and on the other the .superb edifices of the rich merchants, extended as far as the eye could follow the curve of the river. Switzerland seemed still to lie ])evonassed and re- passed the bridge ; and observing upon the stone tower above the archway, facing the Baden side, a figure with the tongue thrust out of the mouth, I naturally intiuirod the oriixin of so singular a fanev. The cau.se is this : — Tin- Kliine divides the city into Great and Little Basil ; and in former times, these towns were not always in harmony with each other. It happened that Little Basil, which was not able to cope with (Jreat Basil in open warfare, laid a scheme, by which (Jreat Basil was to be entered by stealth, and sur])ri.sed during the night ; but the .scheme being in .some way discovered, and the attempt frustiated, the inhabitants of Great Basil eau.si'd a figure to be placed above the arch- way wliieli looks over to Little Basil, with the tongue thrust out of the mouth, in derision of so contenijitible an (>nemy. I have been told, that the iidiabitants of Little Basil would gladly have this insolent tongue removed ; but the inhabitants of Great Basil still enjoy the jest, an 1 insist upon kee])ing the tongue where it is. The environs of Basil are very pleasing. How can they be otherwi.se, with the Rhine for a neigh- bour ? (Iiarnnng country-houses are every where scatterod al)i»ut ; and well laid-out gai-d.-ns mingle with tine meadows, fertile fields, and abundance of wood. The public edifices of Basil are not extremely interesting. The cathedral, built of a reddish stone, whitdi has the ajipearaiiee of brick, contains nothing within it worthy of notice, excepting the tomb of Lrasmus ; and the Ibh 1 dc \'ille is the only other building of auv iniponance. Rasil has always maintained an hon(jural)lr place in the republic of lettei"s, which is suffieirntlv attested by the names of Euler, Bi.rnouiUi, Holbein, an 1 others ; and the Tnix' i-sity of Basil is the oidy one in Switzerland. L\( rtious have lately been made to give to the University a higher rank in .science and literature ; and, as the first and best ju-ejiaratory step, several men of talent and erudition havi' been called to fill the vacant chairs. The library of the University contains nearly :it),(KH) volumes, (including the li- brary of Erasmus,) besides a immber of valuable manuscri])ts, and |)ictures (»f Holbein, There are also preserved in it an inmiense number of Roman medals, and a considerable a.ssortment of other an- ti(iuities and natural curiosities, none of which, however, seemed to me to possess very high in- terest. Basil is quite a commercial city ; and its situa- tion, between P^rance, Germany, and Switzerland, is very favourable to commercial enterprise. The manufactures of Basil are chiefly of silk and ri- bands, and these occupy upwards of 3000 hands. There are also some mamifactories of excellent paper in Basil. The Canton of Basil contains about twelve square geographical miles, and about 4I>,(K)0 inha- bitants, professing the Protestant religion, with the exception of between 5 and 6000. Like all the other Swiss Cantons, the occupations of tin- inha- bitants vary with the nature of the country in which they live. In the mountainous parts, which, how- ever, form the smallest part of the canton, they are employed in the feeding of cattle, and in the ])reparation of cheese ; while in those parts skirt- ing the Rhine, wuie, grain, and fruit arc culti- vated. The great council of the Canton consists of 1 50 members, and exercises the sovereign power. This great council elects two smaller councils, composed of its ow n members ; — one of twenty-five, which exe- cutes the laws — and the other of twelve members, which exercises the judicatory power. In Basil, no families possess any exclusive privileges, all the citizens enjoying equally political rights. The clergy of the Reformed Church are all upon an equality ; and the affairs of the church are ma- naged l)y a genenil assembly of its members, assisted by scnno of the laity, who, as magistrates, have a right to a seat. Throughout the cantons of Basil and Argovie, farming out land is unknown, with the exception of gai'dens near the large towns. The properties of those who aiv considered respectable Swiss pea- sants (for all proprietors who are not noble are called peasants), run from ten up to forty, or at most fifty acres ; and good land is con.sidered to yield ten per cent, profit. Many of the peasants have amassed considerable fortunes ; but accession of fortune is never made apjiarent in their mode of living. From KM)/, to 'MH\f. j»er annum is the usual range of expenditun' ia- persons living, as we woulil say, in easy circumstances ; and I learned from authority that admits of n(» doubt, that not a single individual in all Switzerland spends 1000/. per annum. Transference of land is not usual in the Cantons of Basil or Argovie ; but when it is ])rought to the market, :ifi,00() square feet of good land will bring about 50/. sterling. All Ianosed to the sun, being covend with vineyards. 1 stopped to breakfast at a small inn by the river side ; an 1 i I CHAP. T. ZURICH. 3 while breakfast was preparing, T walked into the church-yard close by, where 1 found not only the usual crosses, and tlie complement of fresli flowers, but also a small wooden vessel, upon each grave, half full of water, which, upon inquiry, I found to be holy water — sadly adulterated, I fear, by the heavy rain that had fallen the night before. Before reaching Brugge, a small town lying about two leagues from Baden, where I intended passing the night. I caught the first di.stant view of the snow-clad Alps of Glarus, distiniiuishable from the clouds only by their greater whiteness. From Brugge, the road lies all the way by the side of the Limmat, which runs a short and rapid course from the Lake of Zurich to the Rhine. The country through which I passed was truly charming : pic- turesque villages climbed up every declivity ; white churches, with tapering green s])ires, topped every height. The course of the river was_ through a succession of little plains, among which it coquetted from one side to the other ; and these, rich in grain or herbage, were bounded by charming slopes, bearing vines below, and clothed with wood above. About six o'clock, I walked into Baden, where, at the sign of the Lion, I found an excellent supper in preparation for a wedding-party, which had come from Zurich to make merry at Baden ; — and there was a o-ood reason for this — dancimj is not permitted in the Canton of Zurich, unless by special permission of the government ; and this is almost always re- fused. In order that the pleasure of a dance may be enjoyed without incurring the penalties, a certain number of persons must subscribe a paper decla- ratory of their intention. This is handed to the council ; and if the conservators of public morals hi the Canton of Zurich thmk the dance may be allowed, and the republic preserved in purity not- withstanding, permission is accorded. But I learned from the very best authority, that a refusal is generally the result. The marriage party at Baden, however, free from the restraints of Zurich, seemed to enjoy their privileges ; and while they continued their festivities, I walked to the .summit of a neigh- bouring hill, crowned by a ruined chateau, and then wandered till supper-time among the adjacent heights, through some charming paths, where I gathered columbine ; periwinkle, white, blue and purple ; thyme ; sweetbriar ; mint ; and sweet- william — all growing wild. A pleasant and lively party at supper was an agreeable finisli to the evening. The bridegroom gallantly replaced upon the head of his bride the garland' <»f white flovvcr.s, which had been laid aside previous to the dance ; and I could not help remark- ing, that in the behaviour and bearing of the bride, there was certainly k^ss cnthdrrdf than would have been .shown by an English girl upon a like occasion. In saying this, 1 do not mean it as a com})Iiment to the English ; it is a mere fact, and may be taken either way ; for modesty or aftectation might pro- duce tlu' like result. The Baden of which 1 am speaking, I need scarcely say, is not the Baden-Baden frc(iucnted by the English ; but tlie Swiss Baden Is also a water- ing place, and much fres- sible to look at a field, a garden, a hedging, scarcely even a tree, a tlower, or a vegetable, without per- ceiving proofs of the extreme cure and industry that are bestowed upon the cultivation of the soil. If, for example, a path leads through or by the side of a field of grain, the corn is not, aa hi England, per- mitted to hang over the path, exposed to be pulled or trodden down by every passer-by ; it is every where bounded by a fence ; stakes are placed at intervals of about a yard ; and, about two and four feet from the ground, boughs of trees are passed longitudinally along. If you look into a field to- wards evening, where there are large beds of cauli- flower or cabbage, you will find that every single plant has been watered. In the gardens, which, around Zurich, are extremely large, the most punc- tilious care is evinced in every production that grows. The vegetables are planted with seemingly mathematical accuracy ; not a single weed is to be seen, nor a single stone. Plants are not earthed up, as with us, but are planteil in a small hollow, into each of which a little manure is put, and each plant is watered daily. Where seeds are sown, the earth directly above is broken into i!m- finest powder. Every shrub, every flower, is tied to a stake ; and where there is wall-fruit, a trellice is erected against the wall, to which the boughs are fastened ; and there is not a single twig that has not its appro- priate resting-place. In Zurich it is all work and no play ; there are no amusements of any kind, nor probably do the inhabitants feel the want of them. There is no theatre, there are no })ublic concerts ; balls, in a canton where leave to dance must be asked, ai'e out of the question. There is a good deal of visiting indeed among the inhabitants ; but it consists either in dinner-parties, to which relations only are in- vited, and which take place at stated times in each other's houses, or in soirees, the amusement of w Inch consists in tea and talk for the ladies, tobacco and talk for the gentlemen ; for upon no occasion do the ladies and gentlemen mingle together. I attended one reunion of gentlemen, but I never attended a second. The out-door amusements of the inhabit- ants are scarcely more captivating or more refined. About a quarter of a mile from the house in which 1 had taken my pension, a celebrated Am<7«/r lived ; a fine promenade and garden skirted the lake, and there the inhabitants occasionally repaired in the evening to enjoy themselves. This enjoyment con- sisted in seating themselves upon benches, and eat- ing, drinking, and smoking. On Ascension-day, a jour de f!te, several hundreds were assembled, and all seemingly for the same purpose. Some had hot suppers, some cold ; but the business of the even- ing was eating. How difierently would such an eveiiing have been spent in France ! The great object of the Zurichei*s is to get money ; and, when they have got it, their great ambition is to l)uild a countrj'-house. It is to these two pas- sions that the Lake of Zurich is so much indebted for its beauty, for none <»f the other Swiss lakes can boast of so great a number of charming country- houses upon their banks. The society of Zurich used, in former times, to be divided into three (jrades : — 1st, the magistracy or councillors ; 2d, those of the learned i>rofessions, and men of educa- tion ; and 3d, the merchants, among which last class there were of course many distinctions ; but at pre- sent, riches have got the ascendancy, and distinc- tion in wealth is the chief distinction of rank known in Zurich. Literature, however, has kept its place in Zurich ; and no where perhaps in Europe is the study of the classics more general than in this city. The French and English languages now also form part of a good education. The language spoken in Zurich is an abominable patois ; but good Ger- man is every where understood, and spoken upon occasions. If, for example, a stranger should ap- pear in society, every one speaks German ; but the moment he retires, patois is again resorted to. There are in Zurich two newspapers publi.shed ; one ap- pearing weekly, the other twice a week ; and there is also a monthly literary journal. The general aspect of Zurich is more interesting than its public edifices, though these are not to be altogether passed over. The situation of the town at the foot of the lake, and the two rivers that flow through it, cannot fail to give to Zurich much of the picturesque ; and although the streets are but indifferently built, the suburbs abound in hand- some houses and charming gardens. The inhabit- ants pique themselves upon the beauty of their pro- menades, and with some rea.son. One, called the I * CHAP. II.] ZURICH. walk of Gesner, is a frequent resort of the upper classes ; but there needs no other promenade than the roads which skirt the lake. Among other places pointed out to strangers as worthy of notice, I visited the arsenal, where one mav receive a lesson of humility, in attempting to wield the swords, and to carry the armour, borne by the warriors of other days. 1, of course, handled the bow said to be the bow of William Tell ; and the identical arrow that pierced the api)le is also shown. I cannot conceive of what materials the sinews of that distinguished patriot were made ; for the dege- nerate men of our time are obliged to use a machine, with the power of the lever, to draw the cord even half way to the point at which the arrow is dis- charged. There is a vast collection of ancient armour preserved, and modern equipments for more than all the able-bodied men in the canton. The city library I found a spacious airy building, containing about 70,000 volumes, well arranged, and in excellent condition. Here, one may see pictures of all the burgomasters that ever swayed the rod of office. Here, also, is a marble bust of Lavater, the most ingenious of philosophers ; and here is a bas- relief of a great part of Switzerland, by which, if one were allowed time to study it, the traveller might be saved the expense of either guides or road- books. I saw no other edifice worthy of mention- ing, excepting the tower of Wellenberg, which is situated in the middle of the river Limmat, where it flows out of the lake. No place could have been better contrived for a prison than this. It is now used as the prison for capital felons, and in former times enclosed within its walls the Count Hans de Habsbourgh the Count of Rapperschwyl, and many other important state prisoners. It would not be fair to pass entirely over the claims of the people of Zurich to public spirit and benevolence. There are various institutions for the cure of moral and physical evil, and for the culture of intellect. There is an academy in which theo- logy, and various other branches of philosophy, are taught ; another academy where students are pre- pared for entering into the foi'nier ; an mstitution for the medical sciences and for surgery ; another for the education of merchants ; an institution for the instruction of the deaf and dumb, and for the blind, the model of which wa.s considered so excel- lent, that Napoleon formed that of Paris upon it ; an academy of artists ; an academy of music ; a society called the Swiss Society of Public Utility ; and many schools for instruction in languages, and for the education of the poor. This is a fine cata- logue ; but the number of persons composing these societies is small, and several of them scarcely exist l)ut in name. The funds necessary for their main- tenance do not therefore trench very much upon the riches of the merchants of Zurich, though in some of these institutions, particularly in that for the care and instruction of the blind, they feel so nmch pride, that there would be no difficulty in obtaining double the sum required for its mainte- nance. To those who are desirous of selecting an agree- able and cheap residence, I dare not recommend Zurich. Agreeable it is indeed in one sense — I mean, as regards the beauty of the neighbourhood ; but a winter's residence could not be otherwise than tru^te, in a city where anmsement is confounded with crime, and where men and women have no inter- course in society ; and as for the expense of living, if house-rent were out of the question, one might live cheap enough at Zurich, or in its neighbour- hood. Beef usually sells about 3d. per lb., mutton about 24d., and veal a penny higher. Fowls ave- rage about Is. 6d. per pair. Butter, when I was at Zurich, sold at 7d. per lb., and eggs two dozen for lOd. ; but these are articles the price of which varies with the season. Fish sold at no less than lOd. per lb. ; but this must be far above the ave- rage price, as certain fisheries were at that season forbidden. As for fruit and vegetables, both are abundant and cheap, with the exce])tion of aspara- gus, which is brought all the way from Basil. But the reasonable price at whicli most of the necessa- ries of life may be obtained at Zurich, is more than neutralized by the high rent of houses. They are, in fact, scarcely to be had at all ; and if some pro- prietor of a maison de cximpahjne should be tempted, by his belief in English alchemy, to let his house to a stranger, he will ask at least three times the sum that would command the same accommodation in England. For a small house pleasantly situated, containing five or six rooms, and without any gar- den, 80/. sterling will be asked ; and the proprietor will not abate a florin of his demand. It is the lake that must ever be the chief pride of Zurich, and the attraction to strangei-s ; and, living as I did, close to its marghi, I had ample opportunities of appreciating its beauty, and of visiting the many charming sites that lie along its shores. The lake of Zurich is the Winandermere of Switzerland ; its character is beauty — beauty of the very highest order, but mingled with the pic- turesque ; and although the banks of the lake never approach the sublime, yet the snow and cloud-capt Alps of Glarus and Uri rise above them, and f'^rm a back-ground such as Switzerland alone can offer. I cannot do better than slightly sketch the lake from the window at which I am now sitting. It stretches out before me in a fine curve of about fourteen miles. A moment ago it was entirely still, touched only by some light airs that here and there crept over its surface. Now a slight breath of wind has fanned it into a ripple ; and the boats, scattered up and down, have raised their little sails, and may be seen gently gliding past the trees. The opposite bank, all the way along, slopes gently from the water ; and the lake not being more than a mile or two broad, I can distinctly see every enclo- sure, and can distinguish the vineyards, the gar- dens, the meadows, and the corn-fields from each other. The whole of the slope is thickly studded with white cottages and country-houses ; and I can count four churches with reddish-coloured tapering spires, half way up the slope, the villages straggling down to the water's edge. Behind this slope, and separated from it by a nan'ow valley, rise the heights of Albis, about 800 or 1000 feet above the Lake, rocky, and wooded to the summit. Below my window, a beautiful plain about two miles square, stretches back from the lake, scattered with fruit trees, and broken into gardens and meadows, in which the hay-harvest is begun ; and behind this plain, and along the lake-side, orchards, vineyards, almond-tree groves, cottages and villages, are all touched with gold, for the sun is nigh setting ; and there is a charming tranilgnms passed from, as well as to, Einsiedeln ; but tlie laugh and the jest, instead of'the prayer, were heard among them ; for they had bowed at the shrine of Our Lady, and had no m(m- occasion for ]trayer ! The Swiss nuisie of this ])art of Switzerland is not entitled to much commendation. 1 had several opportunities of hearing what were considered the ehoicest airs ; but they appeared to me to be mono- tonous ; nor were thev executed in the best taste. Probably, as I get farther into tlu* country, I may find reason to speak in higher terms of Swiss nuisie. The historv of tin- city of Zurich possesses some interest. After having* had the honour to be en- trusted with the direction of the inten'sts of the Swiss Confederation, it allied itself with Austria, and was besieged by its former allies ; but, subs(>- (juently, it made its peace with the confederates, and was restored to its fm-mer rank, and afterwards justified fully the confidence placed in it, by the eoura"e its eiti/ens displiiyed in the wars in wliieh the confederation was engaged against Burgundy, Austria, and the French. In t]w history of the reformation, too, Zurich is distinguished ; for, about the same period at which Luther pronuiigated his doctrines in Germany, Zwingli stood uj) the champion of the reformation at Zurich, which soon became the centre of the new doctrines in Switzerland. The canton stands the first in the confed(>ration ; and, along with Lucerne and Berne, it enjoys the honour of being invested with the lu-esidency every fifth year. The inhabitants, with but trifling ex- ceptions, ])rofess the proti'stant religion ; and, to their gen(>ral character for industry and modera- tion, I need add nothing to the proofs I have already given. None of tin- Swiss eants in tht> market, but small properties almost never, because every one pos- sessing a few acres of land, hopes some day or other "to build a house upon his property. As in Basil, too, a tenth of the produce is claimed by the government ; and there is, besides, a tritling tax for the support of the militia. In this eanton, as well as in some others in Switzerland, every individual is obliged by law to insure his house— a law in which there appears to be much wisdom. The sum paid for insurance is extremely trifling, being only one two-thousundth part (10s.) upon 1000/. The great council of Zui'ich consists of 212 mem- bers, of whom eighty-two are elected in the first in- stance, the remaining' \'M) bcincr elected by the coun- cil itself. The executive and judicatory councils are the same, both in numbei-s and in powers, as in the Canton of Basil. The regulation of the church is also similar to that of Basil. While residing on tin.' banks of the lake, I made many delightful excursiims both by land and water. It is impossible to walk in any direction, without catching images of beauty at every glance, or to make a few strokes with your oai-s from shore, without the most nivishing view being laid open. On every part of the neighbouring heights, too, upon either side of the lake, the most charming prospect is enjoyed,— none more charming than that from the rums of the Castle of Manueck, for- merly a favourite rendezvous of the troubadoui-s, at the epoch when Roger Marmes was its possessor. Little more than the walls are now left to recall those images of romance ; but Roger Mamies and his companions must have enjoyed rare pleasure, listening to the war and love songs of their days, and at the same time looking from the windftws of the chateau upon a scene so lovely as that which lies at its feet ; nor could they have much to complain of, if they had no other wine to drink than that pro- duced upon the east bank of the lake. It is very pale, but with a slight vermillion tint, pleasant in flavour, and not wanting in strength. For the wine which I drunk, and which was eight years old, I paid twelve sous. \Vhj//.'.>' of Zurich occasionally dedicate a day to tiie GriefiVn-See and its eels. Liki' every thing cooked within the Canton of Zurieh, to me they tasted more of mace than any thing else. Whatever one eats at Zurich has this fiavour ; fjecause soup CHAP. HI.] ZOUG. and meat, and fish and vegetables, and preserved fruit, are all prepared with quantities of it. CHAPTER III. THE TOWN, LAKE, AND CANTON OF ZOUG. Walk to Zoug— More Proofs of the extraordinary Industry of tlie Zurichers— An Anecdote that may teach humility— The Town of Zoug— Its Inhabitants and Environs— A Hint to Phrenologists— Prices of Provisions at Zoug— Expenses of the Government, and Constitution of the Canton— Return to Horgen. Before leaving Zurich, I devoted a few days to an excursion to Zoug. There are two roads from Zurich to Zoug ; one following the margin of the lake for about ten miles, to a little town called Horgen, from which a tolerable road leads to Zoug ; the "other crossing the heights of Albis, which run parallel with the lake. I chose the latter route, purposing to return by the other. I crossed the lake about five o'clock, on as fine a May morn- ing as ever dawned upon the mountains of Switzer- land ; and at so early an hour as this, I found the Zurich militia on theh' march from the town to a field at some little distance, where a review was to take i)lace. They appeared to be well-sized, good- looking men, and were neatly dressed in white trowsers, and short blue coats, with black facings. In walking tlirough the fine fertile valley that lies beneath the heights of Albis, I found new proofs of the extraordinary industry of the inhabitants of this canton, in the cultivation of their land. 1 ob-^ served a field of lettuce, containing at least an acre,* in which every individual plant was tied round the top, to prevent it running to waste, and to preserve it for use. Peas, too, which are not planted in rows, but in little clumps about a foot distant from each other, were bound to the stake that sup- l)orted each clump, by three, four, or five thongs, according to the height of the plants, which in rnany cases rose to seven and eight feet. In the agricul- ture of this canton, particularly in the cultivation of gardens, there is one thing 1 must not omit to mention, as being particularly unpleasant to a stranger. The produce of the byres is collected, and emj)loyed in daily libations to the soil ; and in the distance to which it is carried, another jn-oof of industry is seen ; but this practice, however bene- ficially It may act upon vegetation, acts most un- l>leasantly u[)on the olfactory nerves of one who exjieets in walking through a garden, to be regaled by the sweet perfume of fiowers. Many charming glimpses are caught of the lake of Zurich, in ascending to the auberge of Albis, which stands about 1000 feet above the lake, and 2'MH) above the sea, and where an excellent break- last may be had — and ought to be enjoyed — after a niornini; walk of two leaj^ues and a half. In de- scending the other side, a beautiful mountain-lake is discovered to the right, glistening through the firs ; and the lake of Zoug is seen gleaming in the tlistance. In walking towards Zoug, a little circumstance occurred that helps to illustrate the difficulty of pronouncing a foreign language correctly, and may suggest a doubt, whether our proficiency in thisac- coinjilishnient be so great as we suppose it to be. The road separated into two, diverging at an acute angle ; and being totally at a loss which to pui-sue, I addressed myself to three young persons who were standing near, pronouncing the word Zoug, and pointing to the two roads ; but, though one would imagine there could be little variety in the pronunciation of a word consisting only of three or four lettei-s, and although I pronounced it in every possible way, Zoug, Zug with the « short, and Zug with the u long, I could not make myself under- stood ; at length, an old man who was looking out of his window, heai'ing that something unusual was going forward, came to our a.ssistance ; and, by writing the word with a pencil, he at once under- stood me ; and then all the four exclaimed, in a tone of surprise, " Zoug ! " as if they would have said, " How should any one suppose that he meant Zoug ? " and yet, to my ear, there was scarcely any difference between their pronunciation of the word and mine. The road, for at least a league before reaching Zoug, passes through orchards of apple-trees, beneath which, an abundant hay- crop was gathered into heaps, and pleasantly i)erfunied the air ; and about twelve, I reached the hotel de Cerf. More than one traveller has remarked the desolate aspect of the town of Zoug, and has infeiTod, from the de- serted appearance of the streets, a ^^ant of industry and activity in the inhabitants ; and to account for this, we are told that Zoug is a catholic canton. As for the deserted appearance of the streets, it I must be recollected that there is no trade in Zoug, and that the inhabhants are all agriculturists. Most of them are therefore in the fields ; and those who are not, have the good sense to keep within doors in bad weather, which it happened to be wIkmi 1 visited this town, and which it may very probaldy have been when other travellei-s made the obser- vation. With respect to the industry of the peoi)le of Zoug being affected by their religion, I hesitiite as yet to give any opinion, until I have had an op- portunity of contrasting the state of the other ca- tholic and protestant cantons. I shall only observe here, that I saw no want of industry in the cultiva- tion of the soil around Zoug ; and that, in catholic Normandy, reproach might be gleaned for some protestant districts in England. I like the situation of Zoug, lying beneath the hill so prettily variegated with forest and fruit trees, and the lake washing the houses. The banks of the lake are in general soft ; every where culti- vated, and plentifully wooded ; but on the side of Lucerne, Mount Rigi looks down upon it ; and Mount Pilate, although at some distance from the lake, seems to rise from the water-edge. Zoug is the highest of the Swiss lakes ; for it lies no less than 1300 feet above the level of the sea. The churches of the town of Zoug are the objects most deserving the notice of the traveller. The principal church Is St. Michael, which stands upon an eminence, situated about a quarter of a mile from tlie town. The cemetery, which lies around the church, was covered with millions of pinks and white lilies when 1 visited it, in rather odd contrast with the multitude of bright gilt crosses, one of which stands at the head of every grave. At the side of the cemetery is a Golgotha, where are thou- sands of skulls, piled upon one another, each with a label, bi>aring the name of the owner. What a field this for the j)hrenologist I and with such ad- vantages, what a blaze of light would le thrown 8 EINSIEDELN. [('HAI'. IV. I Ik ' I upon the science, by the establishment of a phreno- logical society at Zoug ! The interior of St. Michael is handsome and showy, covered with gilding, and containing images and pictures without number, but none of them beyond price. In the church of the Capuchins, however, and in St. (Jswald's, there are two good pictures, one of them said to be by Annibal Carnicci. In the latter of these churches the treasury is displayed to the curious : it contains innumerable images, crosses, salvers, and candle- sticks of silver, sufficiently testifying the devotion of th«; worthy catholics, by whom these were be- queathed. In the appearance of the inhabitants of Zoug, I observed nothing very different from the appear- ance of the Zurichers, excepting that the women were better looking, but worse dressed. In the town of Zoug, meat sells about 3d. per lb., fish about 5(1., butter about 7d., and a pair of fowls about Is. ftd. In the pr()j)er seasons, woodcocks and other kinds of game are plentiful ; and vege- tables and fruit are at all times remarkably cheap. In the Canton of Zoug, which is the smallest in tile confederation, there are scarcely any nuinnfac- tori«--. The cultivation of fruits, from which cider anmeinden,orcoun- cil, which consists of tifty-four nHinbers. There is no tax of any kind in the Canton of Zoug. The whole exi)enses of the state, amounting to about \(}{)/. sterling, are defrayed from the general Swiss fund, drawn from the entry of foreign merchandise, and from a monopoly in salt, whicli is farmed by government, and which brings about Hi)/, a year. The councillors in this canton are j)aid for their ser- vices, at the rate which can be afforded by the com- nume that sends them. The sum paid by the town of Zoug to its rejjresentatives, is i'ouv (oiils d\>r vixch per anmnn ; ami besides this, every councillor en- tering Zoug to attend a council, which tak<'S place about once a month, receives about I)d. Knglish. This is all that some of the councilloi's reeeivi', for several of the conununes are not able to afford any thing to their n-presentatives. Tlie respectable inhabitants of the canton are not in love with democracy ; and the same may be said of most of the other demt)cratic cantons. Law in Zoug is merely ancient usage ; and as this re(|uires intellect and knowledge to apply it, it is scarcely to be supposed that the repri'sentatives of so ignorant a body as the majority of the whole inhabitants must be, every one of whom has a voice, should be capable of a{)plying ancient usage with any proba- bility of doing justice. Several highly-respectable individuals in Zoug have, accordingly, told me, that they would gladly exchange democi'acy for a spe- cies of government, which, though less free in name, is better calculated to ensure the rights of those w ho live under it. I now left Zoug for Ilorgen, a little town charm- ingly situated on the lak(^ of Zurich, lying on the road from Zurich to Einsiedeln,to which I intended going next day. I reached Horgen at nightfall, and just in time to have escaped a severe thunder- storm, which in a moment changed the face of the lake, shrouded the mountains, and lighted up the firmament. CHAPTER IV. EINSIEDKLN. Journey through the Canton of Schwytz to Einsiedeln — A Rencontre — The Abl)ey, Churrh, and Village of Einsie- deln — Concourse of Pilfjrims — Dresses — Customs — Proces- sion — the Fair — Particulars respecting the Convent — The Miraculous Image— The Adorations paid to it— Bull of Pope Leo VIII. — The Revenues of the Abbey, and their various sources — Credulity of the People — Klfects of the Pilgrimage upon the Agriculture of the Catholic Cantons of Switzerland — Journey from Knsiedeln to (Jlarus — Hap- perschwyl Rridge — Beggars, and Swiss Independence — The Mountains of Glarus. Thf-: morning beint; ushered in with rain, I did not leave Horgen for Einsiedeln till after breakfast. In tile course of a sixteen miles' walk from Horgen to Einsiedeln, one cannot complain of sameness in the scenery. There are, first, five or six niiles of con- tiimed garden aiitl orchard, enlivened, t'wvy few lumdred yards, by neat houses and village churches ; then the ground rises, and the road passes through fine fir woods, checi|iured with other forest trees ; and for some miles before ri'aehing Einsiedeln, the country is alt(tgether j>astui'e laiul, with patches of trees of hardy growth hen* and there, while naked rocks, the crevices filled with snow, are seen jutting behind the nearer elevations that bound the prospect. A trilfing circumstance occurred on the road, from which the traveller in Switzerland may glean a little advice. A trenu'iulous st(jrm having over- taken me, I took refuge in an auberge by the road- side ; and almost at the same moment, a traveller seated in a caleche with one horse drove up. " I have reason to envy you, sir," said 1, "travelling at ease in y(Uir caleche, and sheltered from the storm." " Md foi,'^ replied he, " you have little cause to envy me. I engaged a caleche with one horse in j)lace of two, by way of saving six francs a (lav, and I have been oldiged to walk almost all the way, and yet i)ay for a carriage." The burden must be very light indeed, if oiu^ expects, with a single hoi-se, to perform a journey among the Swiss moun- tains. The first view of P^insiedeln is striking ; for one scarcely expects, in the midst of a desolate plain, situated almost three thousaiul feet al)ove the level of the Mediterranean, to see the magnificent towers of a church, fianked by a range of building that, both in splendour and extent, would do honour to a ca])ital city. The church and convent of Einsiedeln are larger than the town, whicli straggles down from the gates of the former like a mere api)endage to them. And if the traveller bo struck with the ap- pearance of Einsiedeln before he enters it, he will be tenfold more surprised when Iw walks up the one street that leads to the abbey. In place of the deserted as[)ect generally j)resented by a remote country town, Einsiedeln presents the ai)pearance of a great fair, and tlu? most novel, perhaps, in its general features, of any that is to be seen in Europe. I found the street and the s(iuare in front of the church crowded with pilgrims ; and they being of all countries, the most pictures(jue effect was CHAP. IV. j EINSIEDELN. 9 produced by the different dresses in which they appeared. There might be seen the costume of almost every canton in Switzerland, as well as that of nearly every one of the kingdoms bordering upon it— Havaria, Baden, the Tyrol, Alsace, Swabia, — besides many more distant countries. The head- dresses of the women, in particular, offered the greatest and most singular variety ; — some with the ancient bodkin, shaped like a dart, passing throuuh the hair, the head in the fonn of a dia- mond, and studded with glittering st(mes ; others, with a coifiure madeof plaited and stiffened lace,and placed uj)on the head upright, like a cock's comb, or a large fan. Some miglit be seen with a broad circular piece of straw, placed flat upon the head, with flowers tastefully disposed hi the centre ; and many with the hair merely plaited, an infinity of beads and other ornaments interwoven in it. xVlmost all the old women carried statts, and most of the young, red umbrellas. It needed but a slight glance at the BC(Mie before me, to undeceive me ui one re- spect. It was not of the miserably poor only that the ])ilgrims consisted ; there were many of the middling classes, nay, even some of the upper ranks ; and after the religious services of the day were con- cluded, 1 observed not a few leave the scene of hu- miliation in their own carriages. It was evident also, from the number of |)urchases made by the i>il':rims, that with manv of them monev was not scarce. In the j>lailgrimage, while the expenses ofsomeof the poor are ])rovi(ied for, l)y far the greater number are neither so rich as to render the expense a thing of no im})ortancc, nor so })oor as to make their journey dejx-nd upon the ])iety of others. These, almost all engaged in agri- culture, must amount to (>0,()00 or 70,000 persons, the expense of whose journey, })urchases, masses and largesses, and the waste of whose time, nmst all be charged against the cultivation of their land. Nothing can be more absurd than to suppose that there is any thing in the catholic religion itself dis- posing its professoi*s to indolence. The catholic is, no doubt, just as industrious as his protcstant neighbour ; but the immber of holidays which liis religion enjoins or countenances, and in Switzerland this pilgrimage to Einsiedeln, neutralize that in- dustry, however great it may be. The difierence, therefore, perceivable in Switzerland between the state of the catholic and the protcstant cantons, is not chargeable against the spirit of the catholic re- ligion, but merely against the injunctions of the church. I left Einsiedeln, at an early hour, for the Canton of (jlarus ; and, as I found the road rapidly descend- ing, felt no regret at leaving the sharj) wind then blowing over the snow-hills for a more congenial climate. After a walk of about three hours, I reached Lachen, situated charmingly at the foot of the richly-variegated hills that rise above the upper lake of Zurich, and at no great distance from the bridge which crosses the lake to Kap{)(i"schwyl. After having breakfasted, 1 hired a small vehicle to conduct me by the bridge to Rapperschwyl. The bridge and the town are both worth a visit, especially the former, which, as far as I know, is the largest })ridge hi Europe. It is no less than 4800 feet long, and the breadth is sufficient to allow CHAP. V, GLARES. 11 a carriage to ]»ass along. It is certainly a very use- | I'ul and j)raisevvorthy work, and is said to have cost ; the town of Rappei-schwyl upwards of 300,000 francs. The town itself is pretty ; but, in Switzer- land, situation is every thing ; and many an attrac- tive little Swiss town, were it transplanted into the | fens of Lincoln, would lose all its charm by the j eliange. j The road, on leaving Lachen for Glarus, is inter- ; esting, winding among the picturescjue hills that j extend between the alps of Glarus and the lake of Zurich. Here 1 found tln' houses built entirely of wood ; the roofs tiled, with beams laid across, and | stones of immense size laid upon the roof, at about a foot distant fx'om each other, as a securitv acainst the blasts of wind that sweep with great violence through the valleys. It was in this walk, too, that I was first beset w ith beggars, in the shape of chil- dren, who left ofi" their j)lay to assume the whining of ])rac'tised mendicants, and to request half a bat- zen for a nmltitude of in'avers in i-eversion. I could not Init feel sur})rised that republican independence could stoop to this. I do not speak of the children, but of their pai'cnts, Swiss peasants, who were often standing by, and who encouraged their children to ask the alms w hich they did not stand in need of. It was in travelling between Basil and Zurich that 1 first saw in the distance the snowy mountains in Switzerland ; and now I found myself almost at their feet. The day was misty — clouds rolled ujion the mountain-sides — now they shrouded one point, and now thev revealed another — now a snowv peak rose above the dense vapoui's, and now a sud- den gust of Avind laid bare the ilark j)reci[)ice and till' belt of gloomy firs from wliieh it rose. It was with this ])rospect before me, that I entered the valley of the Canton of Glarus. CHAPTER V. THE CANTOX OF GLARUS, The Valley of Glarus — The Town — Character of Swiss Inns — Ant'cdote — Singular Laws in the Canton — Law respect- ing Inheritance — Laws respecting Education — Poor-Laws — Protestant and Catholic Clergy — Salaries of Clergy and Schoolmasters— Revenues of the Canton — Taxes and Ex{)enditurc — Extraordinary Laws respecting Marriage — Prices of Provisions in Glarus — Journey up the Linthall — Character of the upper part of Glarus — Details respecting Schahziger Cheese— Condition of the Inhabitants of the Valley of the Linth — Pantenbrugge — Scenery at the Head of Glarus— Return to Glarus — Excursion to Klonthall — and Journey to Wesen. Claris is one of the most singular of the Swiss cantons, l)oth from its geographical })osition and from the siiin;ularitv of some uf its laws and usagres. It consists but of one lonj; narrow valley, into which there is but one road, and of two small lateral valleys, to neither of which there is any entrance, but by the }»rincipal valley. At the entrance to the canton, the valley is not above a mile broad ; and, as one proceeds onwai'd, it seems as if the journey Would soon be tenninated bv the rockv and almost perpendicular mountains that stretch across ; but the valley winds round them ; and, after a most in- teresting journey of about four hours, I reached tlie town of Glarus — the only i)lace in the canton de- s(>rving the name of a town. Seeing the church- door tt}»en, I stepped within the porch ; but there seemed to be nothing in it particularly attractive : if I had known, however, that here, as in the little village of Dieteken, the same church serves for the devotions of both protestants and catholics, it would have given rise to feelings far more pleasing than any that could have been awakened by the contem- plation of the most splendid monuments. The pro- testants of Glarus, being the richer and the more numerous, offered, some time ago, to purchase from the catholics the right of using the church, thinking that it might be more agreeable to the catholics to erect, with the purchase-money, a cliapel of their own ; but the catholics said they were contented that things should remain as they were ; and so they have ever since. The town of Glarus is remarkable for nothing but its situation ; unless I may be allowed to add, for its very excellent inn, Z'^/<7/(rf 'Or; but indeed there is nothing to complain of in any of the Swiss inns. Thev are excellent, and all uncommonly clean — decidedly cleaner than those of any other of the European countries, not even excepting Eng- land. In afterwards travelling through the Canton of St. Gall, I breakfasted at a country inn, where not only the floor, but the walls, which w ere also of wood, were scoured ; and where the tables, made of the walnut-tree, were so bright with rubbing, that I mistook the lustre upon them for French polish. I have also almost always found tlie utmost variety, and, in general, good cookery in the Swiss bill of fare, with the exception of Zurich and its neighbourliood, where certain spices are used in too great abundance. At the inn at Glarus, where one might scarcely expect the handsomest enter- tainment, my dinner consisted of soup, fish, and five dishes of meat, two dishes of vegetables, and seven of a dessert. It has often occurred to me, when dining at any of the best-served tables in the inns of the Continent, how great must be the sur- prise of a foreigner, when, having asked for dinner in England for the first time, a beef-steak perhaps, and a few potatoes, are placed upon the table. A Swiss gentleman whom 1 met at Wesen informed me, that the first evening he landed at Brighton, he asked for supper ; and a huge piece of cold beef being soon after placed upon the table, he supposed that the company at supper w ould consist of at least twenty pei-sons, for abroad he had been accustomed to see little more of one dish served up than sufficed for the company. In the expectation that the com- pany would arrive, he waited long ; and at length, being told that the beef was intended for no one but himself, he cut one thin slice, marvelling much at the extraordinary appetites of Englishmen, and expecting six or eight as ponderous dishes to follow. The sequel needs no telling. 1 liave mentioned, that the Canton of Glarus is remarkable, not only on account of its geogi*aphical position, but also for the peculiar laws which are in force within it. A few details respecting these may not be unacceptable. One of the most remarkable laws in that canton is, that only a son or a daughter can inherit property. If a'man w ho has inherited his property from his father, dies, leaving neither son nor daughter behind him, his property reverts to government, and cannot even be devised by tes- tament to any other more distant relative. If he has purchased his property, he has the right of dis- posing of it. This law, by w hich the government becomes the holder of large portions of land, has 12 GL Alius. [chap. v. given rise to another usage, of which no one can complain. Government lets out this land to the poor, at the rate of fifteen batchen or 2s. Id for thirty-six feet square. A very considerable portion of land Is held in this way, and is crenerally planted with potatoes, or with the herb used in the manu- facture of the well-known t^cluif'zu-.jer cheese. I heard no one complain of the law respecting the inheritance of property ; and the purpose to which the property of government is applied gives uni- vej'sal satisfaction. In the Canton of Glarus, there are one or more schools in every commune, according to its popula- tion The schoolmasters are paid by government, , and receive each about 35/. per aunum-a hand- j some provision in a country where every article ot sustenance is to be had at a very reasonable rate ; but the most important regulation connected witli these schools is, that the law does not h-ave educa- tion to the choice of indixiduals. Parents are obliged to send their children to school ; nor can this be called a hard law, since all instruction is given gratis. Reading, writing, and arithmetic, are the branches of education taught in these schools. In this canton, there are also schools in each com- mune every Monday for religious instructions— one for protestaiits, another for catholics ; and there is also a Sundav-school in every commune, meant for the instruction of those whose avoeations ()ii other davs of the week prevent them from i.n.titing bv the dailv-schools. In tluse Simday-srhools, all the ordinary useful branches of education are ' Although there are no poor-laws in tlie Canton of (;iaru< there is soniotliing which closely reseiiil)les tli<-m. ' Every Sunday tii.re are voluntary sub- seriptious for the pi)(»i-, at least so they are called ; but if anv one, known to have the means ot giving, be observed not to give, he may be summoned before the council ui»on the information of two citi- zens, and be conii)elled to contribute. _ lioth the protestant and catholic clerjxy are paid by .government. The first protestant minister re- ceives HOO fiorins (al)out (U'.), whi^-h, with tees upon marriages, ,!vc., is swelled to al.out «0/. : he has also a free house, well furnished ; and whatever articles of furniture may lu-.ppen to b(> destroyed, injured, or worn out, they are rtnewed by the ('overiimeiit. It may perhaps be aski-d, from what sources arise the funds which are employed m pay- ing the clergymen, schoolmasters, &c., ami the ordinary expeiuliture of government. To provide for all thfse, tluiH" are two taxes ; a tax upon the head, of four bat/en (about (id.), levied upon every one arrived at the age of sixteen ; and jtnother, a property-tax of two bat/.en (:id.) upon every 1000 florins. The expense of the government tonus but a small charge upon the revenue, the chiif magis- trate having only 20/. a year. But every thin- is upon a proportionate scale in (Jlarus. A person possessing i.roperty to the amount of :iOOO/. is c(m- sidered very wealthy, and there is not one indivilisli their wish with- out tfie consent of their respective parents. A man of fifty must still remain a bachelor, if his lather ot seventy-five should so determine. The absunlity niAP. V.I GLARUS, 13 of this law has given rise to a laxity of morals, unknown in any other part of Switzerland ; and this, again, has produced anotlur, and a very wholesome law, whicli in part neutrali/, i« J^l"it>^t always the case, the female should be received into society, and that no stain should be supi)Osed to attach to her. All laws whose tendency is to di-fV>at, and not merely to re'j;ulate the laws of nature, must fail in their 'object'; and, accordingly, other laws ei' «/- I'^'i" amium. A common feniale servant receives 4/. wages ; a good cook twice as much ; so that, in Glarus, a house and a cook are at ])ar. A labourer receives about 10^1. and his breakfast. Having collected all the information I could re- si>ectini:7he peculiar customs of this canton, I pre- pared for a j..uriiey to the head of the valley, where the canton is hemmed in by the mountains which separate it from the Grisoiis. It was a cloudy morning when I walked out of (Ilarus, taking the ri'dit bank of the Llnth, which fiowed beneath in an impetuous but very limpitl stream. Heat, that in other countries dries up the rivers, in Switzer- land swells them— those at U ast which rise in the hi«>ll Aljis. This fac-t the traveller without a guide should bear in mhid ; because, if he siq-poses, from a Ion-' course of hot, dry weather, that he will find streams fordable, he will often discover his error. This observation has no particular reference to the rivi^r Linth ; but, as it occurred to me at present, 1 thought it best not to omit it. ,,.,., The valley of the Linth 1 found fertile in beauty, and full of poi)ulation. It is environed, indeed, by inia-H's of grandeur and sublimity ; but the high nioimtains being veiled in the mists of the m(u-mug, nothiii" could at first be seen beyond the immediate boundaries, which were simj-lv i-icturesiiue. 1 he proxunitv to the region of snow was seen, however, in th.' .liminished fertility of the soil, and the scanty assortnuut of garden j-roductions. I- roiu Glarus to the little hamlet of Lintbal, three leagues distant, the vallc^v s.'ldom assunu's a gn-ater breadth than two miles.' 1 passed throuirh no fewer than six villages ; and the sides ..f the hills were thickly dotted with the cZ/aA/.s- of the cow and g<'at herds, whose fiocks were urazing on the mountains. 1 did not see a blade of eorn. The j-asturc-land was only diversified bv small fields of thyme, and other o.l(>riferous plants' for tiie bees, the honey of Glarus being much esteemed ; by patches of potatoes near the cottages ; and by little enclosures, where the iilaiit used in the manufacture of cheese was culti- vated. I noticed that, among the little appendages of every house, one small building was api)ro|)riated for the' reception of withered leaves, which U)Y\\\ the basis of the manure used in the valley, and which are also used exclusively for litter. At Linthal, the last village in the canton, is one of the principal manufactories of the Hrhahzhycr cheese, well known and highly esteemed in many i)arts of Euroi)e. I of course visited it. The pea- sants, who feed their cows in the mountains, bring down' the curd in sacks, each containing about 200 11 IS., and for which they receive thirty-six francs French. Th(> herb (kU') which gives it the green c(.lour, and its jKH-uliar fiavonr, having been pre- viously dried and crushed to powder, about G lbs. of it is put into the mill, along with 200 ll>s of the curd ; and after being turned for about two houi-s and a half, the mixture is ready to be put into shapes, where it is kept until it dries sutficiently to be readv for use. When sold wholesale, it fetches about :nd. per lb. This is considered a very lucra- tive trade ; and the richest people in the canton are cheese manufacturers. It is a common belief in England, that ►S-Z/'f/c/rt/.r cheese is made from goats' milk ; but this is (juite a mistake. The foundation of this cheese is in no respect different from that of the English cheeses ; its i)eculiar character is owing merely"to its conjunction with the herb, and to its being 'kept till it is fit for grating. Notwithstanding the existence of something akin to poor-laws, I saw many signs of poverty among the pei-sons who were labouring in the fields, or in the little gardens. They were generally \yitliout shoes or stockings, and w(>re otherwise but ill pro- tected a<4ainst the cold blasts of the mountains. A Swiss nrountaineer, or even a goat-herd, may be very picturescpie in a landscai)e, (»r may even be introduced into fiction with effect ; but it is a sorry occu])ation to sit from morning until night, with a scanty fiock of goats, and without shoes or stock- ings, among the rocks of the (Jlarus mountains, where, even in summer, bitter blasts occasionally sweep the hill-sides, and where the warmest sun is (•fteii obscured by showei-s of snow and sleet, that in the lower valleys descend like summer dews. There are many gradations in riches among the peasants of Glarus' ; from one goat or one; cow, up to fifty or sixty. The i)ossessor of twenty or twenty- five cows, is considered to be in very easy circum- stances, and yet the value of his whole property does not amount, in (Jlarus. to more than IGO/. ; for the usual price of a cow is about 7/. or Hi. at most. But with six cows a i)easant is not in poor circum- stances ; and even with a single cow and a little potato land, he is not numbered among the poor. Six or seven goats are also looked upon as a tolera- ble independence ; and a man owmng three goats Ls not a pauper. Linthal is only a few straggling houses, but there is a prospect of'this remote place rising into some importance ; for, at the foot of the Stackelberg, a mineral water has lately been discovered, which has already ol)tained some celebrity ; and a hand- some hotel and baths are now erecting for the use of strangers. This would be a charming retreat during the month of June for the disciples of Isaak Walton. I never saw a stream more like a good trouting stream, than the Linth ; it is neither too deep nor too shallow ; there is little or no wood upon its banks ; it is neither too lazy nor too rapid ; and every now and then it forms those delightful eddies, which so pleasantly animate the hopes of the angler. And let not the thorough angler despise me' utterly if I add, that I never tasted more deli- cious trout than those which had been drawn out of the Linth. Beyond Linthal there is no village up the valley to Panttnbru(}ije, which is the ne plus ultra. I left Linthal for this bridge after breakfast, and soon entered upon the narrow defile, which is all that remains of the Canton of Glarus. Every step the scenery became more and more striking — the rocks more jirecipitous — the cascades, great and small, more frequent — the stream of the Linth more im- petuous — and the mountains behind more gigantic ; the glaciers of the Ruzen P'lz rising above them all. The road, or rather path, continued gradually to ascend, till I found it i)Owdered with the snow that had fallen during the past night ; and, after a most interesting walk of about two leagues, I reached the Pantenbrugge. I was fully repaid for my labour. One arch Ts thrown over the Linth, from rock to rock, and at the depth of IOC feet below, the river bursts from its mountain-gorge to seek a wider channel. The scenery around is of the wildest de- scription. Terrific precipices rise on every side, and the resthig-places of the eternal snows are beyond. 'p'rom Pantenbrugge a mountain-path leads into tlie Grisons ; but when I visited this part of Swit- zerland, the season was not far enough advanced to render this path practicable ; and besides, 1 pur- posed reaching the Grisons by a more circuitous route. It rained torrents as I returned to Gla- rus, where I spent the night ; and next morning I left it to visit Klonthal, a small Alpine valley of the canton. Mist and sunshine maintained a charming conflict all the way ; they were conquerors alter- nately. One moment it seemed as if the sunshine were vanquished beyond recovery ; the next a bright gleam would flash athwart the mists, and drive them from their strong holds ; and then, when light appeared to be triumphant, dark vapours again rolled u])ward from nobody knows where, and triumphed in their turn. It is a very interesting walk to the Klonthal, chiefly because the result is unlooked for ; for who could expect, after following the course of an impetuous stream upward, sud- denly to enter upon a little paradise ? A desolate Alpine valley one might look for, or a dark moun- tain tarn ; but not a smiling vale, suiTOunding a fine gentle lake, imaging, in its tranquil breast, green meadows and quiet cottages ; and yet this sweet valley is close to the regions of snow ; for on all sides rise the summits of Glarnisch and its cora- peei-s. The same evening, 1 left Glarus for Wesen. I have nothing more to add respecting Glarus, excepting that the constitution of the canton is de- mocratic ; and that, although there are in the canton seven times as many protestants as catholics, the council is composed of ec[ual numbers of both. m 11: 1 I* m II I 14 ST. GALL. [chap. VI. CHAPTER VL CAMON OF ST. GALL THE ORISONS. The Wallensee— Journey to St. Gall— Pilgrims— St, Gall and its Manufactures— Peculiar Laws of St. Gall— Cheapness of Property— Voyage from Wesen to Wallenstadt— Cha- racter of the Lake, and Accident by the way— Arrival at Chur— Chur and its neighbourhood —The Bishopric— State of the Inhabitants; Merchants. Lawyers, Physicians- Journey from Chur to the Ensadine, across Mount Albula —An Anecdote— Details respecting Grison Liberty, and the National Character of the Grisons— Revenues and Ex- penditure of the Canton. The little town of Wesen lies at the head of the Wallenstadt Lake ; and from the windows of the inn (rEpet-), there is a truly eharniing prospeet. The Wallenstadt is not one of the very celebrated anions the Swiss lakes ; and yet it seems to me de- serving of a very respectable place. It has not, indeed, the sublin'uty of Lri, nor the majesty of Ge- neva, nor the beauty of Zurich ; but it has charms of its own. There' is a quiet seclusion about its shores, that partly atones for the absence (.f glaciers, and which, to many, may be more pleasing than the prospect of gardens and Duiisons rudential pnncii)le ' operates but feebly. The price of houses is indeed incredibly low, i specially country-houses ; one was pointed robable that 1 .should breakfast, than sui> at Wallenstadt. My labour being no longer needed, I had nothing to do but to enjoy the prospect around me. 1 was nearly opposite to the village of Quin- ten, the situation of which is in the highest degree pictures(iue ; for the rocks in its neighbourhood dip perpendicularly into the water ; and above them, at a height of at least 1200 feet, might be seen nume- rous herds of cattle and goats, browsing upon a beautifully green herbage, spotted with the clui/<'(t! of the sheplierds ; while various cascades, although not great enough to produce much effect ui)on the landscape, yet sweetly liarmonized with the other gentle sounds of even-tide. My companion tugged hard with his one oar, and I occasionally relieved him. It fell dark, however, when we yet wanted a li-ague of Wallenstadt ; but there was notliing to regret, as I watched the shadows gradually crc-ep over till' hills, till deep night covered the landscape, and the dark still sui-face of the lake was gemmed with the thousand stai-s of heaven. It was about midnight when wi' reached Wallen- stadt, where I foniui myself engaged in a warm dispute with the boatmati respecting the broken oar, which he insisted I should i)ay for ; and although 1 well knew that the oar had borne about it the infirn\ity that had come to so untoward a crisis, yet, iis the crisis had arrived, and tenninated faUilly, (ilAP. VI. 1 THE GRISONS. 15 - while the oar was under my care, I consented to pav the half of what was demanded. Whatever may be the merits of the Wallenstadt lake, in point of 'natural beauty, it will yield to no other in point of utility ; for it is by this lake that all the commerce between Zurich and Italy is car- y\^,^\ 0,1 — a transit that would otherwise be extremely circuitous. The Wallensee is famous for its excel- kMit fish ; and as some wonderful tale is generally current about every lake, I must not omit to say, that it never freezes. My anxiety to get into the country of the Grisons increasing as I approached it, I only remained at Wallenstadt to breakfast, and for once deviated from mv pedestrian habits, by closing with the offer of a volturier to take me to Chur, the Grison me- tropolis, in five houre. The construction of the voiture was such, that, even if the weather had been favourable, I should have been punished for niy efiemiuacy by the limited prospect ; but it was a con.solation to' see the country enveloped in so dense a mist, that nothing was lost by my manner of travelling. At Mayenfield, 1 again found the Rhine, which I had loft' at Basil ; and the fog allow- ing me to see dimly the opposite bank, I could dis- cover that, although not the majestic river which sweeps the territory of Baden, the Rhine is, even at Mavenfield, a fine, 'large, and beautiful stream. Al)out a league Ix-fore reaching Chur, the mist cleared away, and a heavy rain succeeded. The lower country, and half way up the mountains, were now visible ;' and I therefore foi-sook the voiture, ami walked to Chur, which I soon discovered lying in a deep hollow among the mountains, with seve- ral valleys dfvergingfntm it, each of them traversed bv a river; and in about half an hour I was re- ceived at the (IiiIhTiIi' of Daniel Denz, with that amenity for which iim-keepers, all over the world, are distinguished. Chur is a very small place, to be the metropolis of so large a district as the country of the Grisons. Less than three hours suffice for seeing all that is worthy of notice in it. If you walk ten minutes in a straight line in any direction, you will leave the town behind you. Almost every house in Chur has its garden,* and every garden its clump of vines, from which they make a very weak but pleasant wine. In accordance with the Grison character, of which I shall speak more fully by -and-by, there is not an inch of ground in any garden, or in the neighbourhood of Chur, that is not made subser- vient to utility ; and this necessarily produces an appearance of' greater fertility than might be ex- j)ected from the climate, and the elevated position of the country. The catholic church at Chur, and the residence, or palace, as it is called, of the bishop, occupy the most elevated part of the town ; l»ut even from the highest pinnacle of his church, this ecclesiastic can- not see the bounds of his diocese. It is the great- est in Switzerland — extending not only over the greater part of the country of the Gnsons, and of the Canton of St. Gall, but even embracing in its paternal arms, ])arts of Suabia, the Tyrol, and the northern parts of Italy ; and it was but recently that the head of the chui'c'h of Rrotestant canton — for such the country of the Grisons is always considered — two-thirds, at least, of the inhabitants professing the reformed religion. In walking through the streets of the little town of Chur, one is surprised to find so much bustle and animation as are every where visible, so different from the silence and repose and inertness that dis- tinguish most small provincial towns. But this is easily accounted for, when we recollect that the manufactures of St. Gall, Glarus, and Zurich, are sent to Italy through this town, and by the Splu- gen ; and it is here that the transit of merchandise is undertaken. No fewer than 100,000 quintals pass yearly ; and several persons engaged in the transport of this merchandise have realised consi- derable fortunes, and are indeed considered to be the wealthiest persons in the canton. This trade is supposed to occupy at least one-third of the inha- bitants, as inn-keepei-s, waggoners, porters, horse- ])roprietors, and the other subordinate trades, such as blacksmiths, wheelwrights, roj)emakers, &c. : the rest of the inhabitants are shopkeepers, small land-owners, and professional men — the last the poorest ; for law in this neighbourhood is nmeh superseded by arbitration ; and the fees of the me- dical gentlemen are so low, that nothing but an epi- demic can afford the least hope of a competency : their usual fee, from respectable people, is one franc per visit. Living, however, is not expensive : meat costs about 5d. ; butter 8d. ; and wine, vegetables, and fruit, at least a third dearer than at Zurich. Chur lies on the outskirts of the Grisons ; and a residence there can give the traveller little in- formation as to the country, or the people who inhabit it : it is the remoter and central valleys he must visit. These are, the Upper and Lower En- gadine, the Albula, and the valley of the Upper Rhine ; and accordingly, after resting one day at Chur, I left it to visit the Engadine. There is no road from Chur to the Engadine, excepting very liigh and difficult mountain-passes, practicable only for a pedestrian ; so tliat, had I been a Russian prince, I must have been contented to travel as I did on foot. The road from Chur conducted me through a finely wooded and hilly country, to the little town of Lenz, where I ai-rived about mid-day, just in time to partake an indifferent dinner with the pro- prietor of a forge situated three or four leagues farther on. There, a little incident happened worthy of relating. Several peasa^its of the lower order were regaling themselves in another room ; and the news having circulated among them, that a stranger, who had come through France, was then in the house, I was interrupted, in the midst of my repast, by the entrance of an old sturdy peasant, who exi)ressed his extraordinary good fortune in having met me; because, as I had come from France, I could probably give him some intelli- gence respecting his son at Toulouse. This reminds me of a fact, that to my certain knowledge occurred in Scotland, and upon 'which the reader may impli- citly rely. A gentleman in the neighbourhood of Banff', travelling to the metropolis in his own car- riage, ottered the spare corner to a worthy corpora- tion-man of that burgh, who happened to have some business in the south ; and, early one morning, the travel lei>s reached Edinl)urgh, entering by the west 16 THK ORISONS. I (MAP. VII. CHAP. VII.] THE Gill SUNS. 1' 1% h end of Princes' street. It so liapjKMied that a cat, returning' from a nocturnal ramble, was walkuif; leisurely alonj,' the pavement ; and the untravelled inhabitant of the northern burgh, to whom every du'^ and cat within his own town were famihar, stniek with the beauty of this early wanderer, awoke his companion from a sound sleep with tins mter- rogatory, " What a bonny catty ! fa's catty's that ?" The individual with whom I dined ottered me a seat in his cart (for the roads in this part do not admit of vehicles with springs) as far as his road and mine lay together ; and I accepted the oiler, for the sake of benefiting by his conversation, for he seemed both intelligent and connnunicative. The information I received in this and other (piarters, during my residence among the (irisons, respecting the political constitution of the country, 1 shall re- cord in this place ; for between Lenz and liergun, where 1 passed the night, nothing occurred to swell my personal narrative. I have never travelled in any country where the peo{»le talk so much about lil>erty, as in tlie country of tl e (irisons— above all, in the Kngadine. " This," said a peasant to me at a little village in the OIm/- KiupriVme, where 1 shall by-and-by conduct the reader, " this is the only republic in the world, and we are the onlv free ])eople !" and 1 have no doubt he spoke as he believed. '' Touch the very smallest of our rights," said another in the village of Pont, " and revolt would instantly follow." If the rights vaunted by these ]>eopl(' did really exist, tluir de- termination to preserve them might be easily ac- counted for. The Kngadine is shut out from the rest of the world by high and almost impassable mountains. The defile of the Fhi^tenimntz, on the side of the Tvrol, might be defended by a handful of resolute men ; and if a single rock were blown up in the i)ass from Chur by Mount Albula, the only vestige of a road would be swej^t away ; and the onlv entrance to the country would then be by the tremendous chasm below, and up a cataract of two or three hundred feet. But the liberty so nmch spoken of by the (Irisons, and of wliich they are so proud, has no existence. When we say that the country of the CJrisons is a republic, that no dis- thiction of rank is ostensildy recognised, and that every individual has a voice in the election of r(>- jtresentatives, we enumerate all its ])retensions to the enjoyment of perfect i)olitical liberty ; but much more than this is wanted, before a country can be said even to approach such a state of political liberty as is comi)atible with the existence of any organised government ; and in all biyond what 1 have emnne- rated, the (J risen republic is deficient. That first and greatest safeguard of the rights of a free people, the liberty of the press, is unknown. Nothing is pub- lished that is not previously read by the public authorities, and approved ; and so far off are the Grisons from trial by jury, that the courts of law hear and determine with closed doors. So far, indeed, is this i)rincii)le carried, that the council, or representative body of the canton, holds its de- liberations in secret. There are some things, indeed, of a public nature, with which the Grisons have much reason to be pleased, though these by no means result from their form of government, but from the smallness of the .stati — 1 allude, particu- larly, to the absence of taxation. There is no im- position or tax of any kind. The expense of the government, &c. is defrayed by the dues charged upon the transit of merchandise through the can- ton ; so that the (irisons thcn^selves pay nothmg for the maintenance of tluir state. This is doubt- less very agreeable ; but those who cannot congra- tulate tfnniselves u])on such a state of things, have fortunately an ecpiivalent. Ihit the (irisons are not only proud of bemg a republic, but of being in themselves a federative republic ; for the country is divided into no fewer than thirty jurisdicti<.ns* each, in many important respects, fndependent not only of the others, but even of the supreme council. In each of these thirty jurisdictions, there is a power of life and death ill criminal cases, and this ])ower is sovereign and without appeal. The common law is ditterent in each jurisdiction. Every one ha.s its own pecu- liar laws and its own usages ; and by these, the (luestions arising within their boundaries must be determined. From these, indeed, there is a court of api)eal at Chur, the judges of which must neces- sarily be presumed to have a sufticient knowledge (tf the laws peculiar to every one of the thirty juris- dictions. It is almost needless to say, that all this works ill, and that this federative republic is not only deficient in the very essentials of liberty, l)ut is also wanting in some of those advantages that are to be found in states where there are no pretensions to it. It is but right to say, that 1 met with one or two individuals, and but one or two, who had the courage or the candour to admit that the Grison government was not perfect ; and that it would be better to live under more assured laws, even if a king were the fi)untain of justice. 1 was informed, that the insecurity of the law, and the impertect I administration of justice within the jurisdictions, had led many to resort to arbitration ; but from tins also there is an api)eal to Ghur ; so tliat the greatest advantage of arbitration dois not exist. Before resuming my narrative, let me add, that the revenues of the Grisons amount to loO,()(M) francs ((JOOO/.), and that the whole expense of the government, salaries of ]>ublic otfici-rs, i)ay ol militia, maintenance of public buildings, roads and bridges, and allowance to the councillors, who receive six francs per dav during their sittings, amount to about two-thirds of this smn. The suri^lns lias been employed, for some yeai-s past, in i.ayiiig <»tf a smairpiil^l'^' "^''^'^ ' ^"'^ ''^''■" ^ travelled through the country, 1 found every one alive to the imi)ort- ant (luestion, what government meant to do with the surplus revenue ('ilMK^/.), at the redempti.m of the debt— a period to which the Grison politicians looked forward with impatience and anxiety, as one well calculated to try the fidelity of their represen- tatives. I trust the reader will excuse these minute details, respecting a peoi)le whose pu])lic debt is on the eve of redemption, by the annual surplus re- venue of 2()0()/. CHAPTER VII. COUNTRY OF THK GRISONS. Bergun-Scene in a Village Inn-Traits of Tharactcr- (irison Enjoyments-The Passage of Mount Albula,— Valley of Albula, Ascent, and Scene of extraordinary Sub- limity—Descent towards the Enpadine-Channing Pros- pej-t—Visit to a Mountain Dairy, and Details— Arrival in the Ober Engadine. From the little town of Lenz, where I had dined, the road gradually ascended, and, about two leagues from Bergun, which I had fixed upon as my night's quartei-s, I w;is left to pursue my journey on fo(jt. It was almost quite dark before I reached Bergun, and with some difficulty I discovered the auberge, which was filled with the villagers discussing their evening allowance of wine, and congratulating them- selves upon the excellence of their pi'ivileges. Among these there was one portly old gentleman, whom I at fii-st mistook for the aubergiste, and w ho welcomed me in tolerable English ; but who after- wards informed me, that he was one of the many sons of these valleys who leave their paternal homes in early youth in (juest of fortune. This old gen- tleman had found it. He had travelled, during twenty years, in tlie capacity of a valet, through all the countries of Euroj)e ; and having scraped to- gether the savings of his services, he had at last opened a confectioner's shop in Bayonne, where, in ten years more, he acquired sufficient means to enable him to return to his native valley, there to spend the remainder of liis days. Even there, how- ever, it was not inactivity that ho sought. The (irisoiLs are never inactive, nor ever regardless of their pecuniary interests. He had oj)ened a sliop at Bergun, and reuiined a share in that at Bayonne, and .seemed to be one of the most influential j)er- sons in his native village. It is not at all unusual to find persons in the remote villages of the Grisons proprietors of shops in more than one distant city. I found myself fortunate in meeting this person, because I was now arrived where the Rotnan dialect is only spoken ; and although the auberge at Bergun could furnish but little to tempt tlie epicure, the culinai'y skill of the ri-dermit valet supplied a hun- dred deficiencies. He said he knew the English were accustomed to live well at home, and begged I would pemiit him to j)repare supper, to which I need scarcely sav I consented ; and the result was, an omelet and some fried trout, both quite good enough to have provoked an appetite that needed a provocative. 'J'he scene in this inn afforded a fair specimen of Grison enjoyment. Fourteen villagers were seated at a long table, each with his cap on, which each no doubt fancied the caj) of liberty. A small wooden ])late, with some bread and cheese, and a small bottle of wine, stood before each. The convei'sation was energetic and grave ; its theme was politics — the politics, not of the world — not of Europe — not even of Switzerland — but of their own canton. One, seemingly the most resj)ectal)le of the group, per- ceiving that I listened to the convei-sation, and suspecting that 1 was unacquainted with the lan- guage in which it was can'ied on, commanded silence, and addressing me in French, told me, that I had liere a specimen of the manner in which the Grisons spent their evenings. " When the labour of the day is ended," said he, " we assemble here — we order our chopin of wine, and discourse upon the privileges we enjoy. You have no liberty in England to comjiare with ours ;" and yet, the man who was the eulogist of libei'ty, was himself the village tyrant : — so the person who spoke English informed me. Greater boldness, and a some>vhat stronger intellect, j)erha])S, had raised him above liis fellow-villagers, and destroyed, as it must ever ri- vileges, there was the little bridge that spanned the torrent, or the fir-tree that lay by the way-side. Tliis valley is about a league in length ; and, after having travei-sed it, the path — for it is no longer a road, ascends a narrow defile among the c -t, l%- LI4 If*'' 18 THE GRISONS. [(HAP. vii. bald rocks that lie around the little lake of Wisseu- stein 1 found the ascent laborious ; but the scenery around amply con.i)ensated the labour, for it uas of the most Varied and striking; charact(-r. line (rirdles of dark tir spanned the waists ot the rocks, whose .n-av and rutj-ed heads rose in vast amplu- theatre! 'Oi'low the firs, and amon- the lower rocks, lav the freshest verdure, watered by innu- merable 'rills that were seen higher up m white threads of foam anioiifr the rocks. Here and there was a chalet-here and there a little tlock ; but these became rarer. The path surmounted the tir ; and, at a sudden turn, I found myself on the borders of the little lake, and beside the chalet, where the traveller mav find mountain-fare. This lake lies extremely liiih, and ].ossesses the character of every lal;e foim'd in such elevations— a character, in some- thiiiLT, perhaps, sli-htly varyin-, but whose genera features must necessarily he alike. A few stunted firs were scattered about the lower en«l, where the water was siiallow ; but on all the otht>r sides, it lay still, and dark, and treeless, beneath the fri^'ht- fiil precipices that t<)wered ahove. The ascent from the lake is extremely rapid : it remains in sight more than an hour, and is then shut out by a ledge of the higher rocks that are connected with the summits of the mountain. And now, a scene opened before me, to whose sublimity, I fear, I shall be able to render but iin])erfect jus- tice. When I si)eak of this scene, I do so with a perfect recollection of other scenes that I have be- held in other parts of the Alps, in tlie Pyrenees, in the Canuithiaii mountains, and in Norway ; and I feel that I mav do perfect justice to all of these, and yet assert the sui.eriority of this part of Mount Albilla, in all that constitutes that kind of sublimity which arises from the presence of desolation. The dehle I hail now entered was from one to two miles broad, and thn-e or four in length ; it was environed by the highest summits of the mountain. These rose almost peri)endicularly from the defile, in some places showing precipices of two or three; thousand feet ; in other places, presenting a frt)nt of towers and pinnacles, and displaying enormous gaps, where nothing but the torrent had entered, and vast caves, where the eagle only had ever rested. Above all, the highest peaks, powdered with snow, but too ragged and pointeli. This, however, 1 know, in ascending higher than this defile, the river is seen to enter it in several concentrated streams ; and below the de- file, it is again seen to enter the lake 1 have men- tioned ; and, in passing through the defile, at some deep openings and gaps, you may hear the distant rush of waters far below, indicating, hy the famt- ness of the sound, the great depth at which they find a channel. I have never been more strongly im])resftea by anv scene than by this. It realized, more than any scene 1 have ever beheld, the conception of chaos " treeh'ss, herbl(>ss, lifeless." Not even the fowl of the desert could here have found one fruit of the wildern(>ss, nor one gushing stream whereat to slake his thirst. This curse of utter sterility I myself experienced. The breakfast 1 had maovser, a well of the desei-t would have been welcome. 1 found, however, a shelter from the sun's rays ; and it is only amid scenes like these, that we are able to underetand 1 the force of the exi)ression, " the shadow of a great rock in a wearv land." i When 1 had traversed this defile by a gradual ascent, I entered upon the third and last division of the']>ass. Ht«re I found the stnam, which 111 a succession of rapids and cataracts c(»mes from the highest interior vallev, when- the snow is accumu- lated to a great depth. The ascent here is ex- trtmielv rapid ; and the scenery, although it has lost that character of utter desolation which pre- sides lower down, vet retains much grandiur, min- gled with a few of those graces that are found in Alpine scenery. Here and there 1 found a scanty iierbage, and ninunu>rable beautiful mosses. The ranunculus and the mountain-anemone bloomed at my feet ; and the rocks, ashamed of their naked- ness, were covered with the crimson blossoms of the rhododendron. , About an hour and a lialf after leaving the dehle, the highest part of the pass is attained. Here one is still in a vallev, though its si.Us do not rise more than a thousand" feet abi.ve it. 1 found deal of snow, and occasionally some difficulty in passing it • but after an hour's walk I began to descend, and a scene soon opened below, very diH'eivnt from that which 1 have attempted to describe I he southern interior vallos of Mount All>ula are among the most esteemed in all Switzerland for the i,asture of cattle, which are brought there even from some of the remoter cantons. In the country of the Grisons, every village has its mountain, or its part of a mountain, to which the inhabitants have free access for the grazing of their cattle ; and when herds arrive from places beyimd its liberty, they are permitted to graze, upon payment of a certain small portion of the i.roduc.' of the dairy, to the village enjoy in<' the libertv of the mountain. "It was a beautiful sight to look down the south- ern side of Mount Albula ; the most charming ver- dure covered the slopes and the valleys, and the flocks of a hundred hills seemed there to be congre- gated The distant, and not unmusical chime of their thousand ])ells, mingled with the faint lowing came sweetly up the mountain ; and the beauty and interest of the scene was greatly increased by the CHAP. VII.] THE GRISONS. 19 recollection of the lifeless and desolate wilderness that I had newly quitted. Scenes of grandeur and sublimity are indeed glorious ; and by them we are called from the littlenesses of life, to a contempla- tion of the majesty of that which is more enduring. Unutterable, indeed, is the charm that holds us in the depth of the silent valley, and among the dark and mighty mountains ; but still there is, in pictures of life and hajipiness, in scenes of a more tranquil and gentle kind, a language that speaks more uni- versally to the human heart ; and this I found in the contrast between the desolate grandeur of the defile, and the green and life-like aspect of the mountain-slopes. Less than an hour brought me among the cattle, and anotiier hour led me to their habitations. For the double purpose of quenching my thirst, and of seeing the interior of these mountain-dairies, I left the tract to visit one of them. One or two larjre and fierce-looking dogs oj)posed my entrance ; but a shepherd, who had doubtless his own interest in I view, smoothed the way, and conducted me into ' the interior. In the outer ])art of the chalet, there was rt)oin for ujjwards of three hundred cattle ; and the inner part consisted of two rooms, one where tln' milk is kept, and the other where the cheese is made. There is, besides, a kind of loft, where the men enij)loyed in the dairy sleep. For every fifty cows, there is generally one man. They are each allowed about sixteen florins per month, which, at the value of a florin in that country, is about 29s. They are, of course, allowed nourishment besides, which consists of salted meat, bread, and as much cheese, butter, and milk, as they ])lease. The term of their emi)loyment is usually about four months. It IS evident, therefore, that the occupation of a shepherd of the Alps recjuires some knowledge. It is not merely looking after the cattle, and leaning upon his crook : he must know all the mystei"ies of the dairy, whieh are neither few nor simple ; and, judging from the excellence of its productions throughout the greater part of Switzerland, these shej>herds must be well versed hi their trade. I found those of Mount Albula civil, communicative, and tolerably intelligent. They seemed to feel con- siderable pride in showing me their utensils, which, indeed, they well might ; for nothing could be cleaner or in more excellent order, than the uten- sils which contained the produce of the dairy, in all its varieties of milk, cream, butter, and cheese. Every traveller has spoken of the excellence of the niilk he has drunk among the Alps ; and I must needs add my testimony to that of others ; though I must acknowledge that I thought it inferior in richness to the milk I have drunk in Norway, and, I niay perhaps add, in the Highlands of Scotland. It is certainly no recommendation to the thirsty traveller — at least it ought to be none — that milk is rich. It is, indeed, a delicious, but scarcely a re- freshing beverage ; and if the traveller will take my advice, he will follow my example, and drink the milk which has been already deprived of the cream. After leaving the dairy, I went rapidly down the mountain, and, passing through the region of fir, I found myself, in about two hours, in the lowest de- file, from which 1 occasionally caught glimpses of the valley below ; and about five in the afternoon I reached the village of Pont, in the Oher, or Upper Engadine. I need scarcely add, that the descent into the Engadine is less, by at least 2000 feet, than the ascent from Bergun — the village of Pont lying at an elevation of no less than 4800 feet above the level of the Mediterranean. In the Engadine the traveller is not directed to the inn by the sign painted over the door, or swung before it. There is nothing to distinguish an inn from any other house. The villagers are presumed to be acquainted with the road to it ; and as for strangei-s, the few that come are supposed to be ver- sant with the Roman, and consequently able to ask the way to the auberge ; but, as I did not possess this knowledge, I was some time in discovering the house of repose ; but at length, a certain air of bustle and importance about a tolei-ably stout Gri- sonette, of forty or upwards, who stood at the door of a large house, raised a suspicion in my mind that this geutlew^oman might be the mistress of an inn ; and in this expectation I accosted her, and found that I had judged correctly. She did not herself speak any thing but the Roman ; but a person who lived hard-by was immediately found to act as an interpreter. This convenience a stranger mav always have, in almost every part of the Engadine*; for so prone are the natives of these valleys to wan- der in early life into foreign lands, that in every village several are to be found who have returned with the savings of their industry, and who are able to speak more than one foreign tongue. In this inn I got a tolerable supper of pastry, cheese, bread, and milk. Each of the articles was indeed excel- lent of its kind, especially the cheese, the produce of the neighbouring mountain. It is the same with cheese in Switzerland, as with wine in France, Spain, and Italy. You meet, in little districts, with cheese of an excellence and delicacy in flavour pe- culiar to itself, differing in kind, perhaps, but many degrees in quality from other cheese made in an ad- joining valley. Perhaps it may be difficult to assign a satisfactory reason for this : it may lie in the skill of thosfe w ho superintend the dairy — in the tempera- ture of the spot where the cheese is made — or iu the difference in pasture. The latter reason is the one assigned by the natives ; though they have never been able to point out to me any specific difference in the nature of the pasture on different mountains. The cheese at Pont 1 found delicious : it was cer- tainly of the Gruyer kind ; but in richness and delicacy of flavour, it far surpassed it. CHAPTER VIII. COUNTRY OF THE GRISONS — THE OBER AND CNTER ENGADINE. The Valley of the Ober Engadine, and the River Inn — Charac- ter of the Valley, and Rural Economy — Grison Villages and Houses — Fernetz — Suss — Grison Women — State of the In- habitants of the Engadine — Inns and Shops — Intelligence of many of the Natives — Domestic Economy of the Inha- bitants of the two Engadines — Winter in the Engadine, and Grison Society — Privileges peculiar to the Villages — Contentment of the Natives — Scenery of the Unter Enga- dine — Guarda — Character of the Valley of the Unter Enga- dine, and its Productions— Fettam, and its Professor — Details respecting the Grison Youth, and their search after Fortune — Education in the Engadine — The Clergj- — Jour- ney to the foot of the Valley. I LEFT Pont early next morning, to walk down the valley. The Inn, which was destined to be mv com- c2 20 Tin: G 111 SONS. [chap. VIII. \¥ piiiiion throu^litnit tlu> Eii<;as ten yards across. At I'oiit it isscarrcly twenty miles from its source, wiiicli is in the ^Maciers of i{rei;ai;lia ; but, like numy (^ther things, whicli, in their he<,Mnnin^s are insi. nificant, ])Ut which, hke itself, the conunencenient of an eternity, are invested with a ;^n-andeur, eonmiensu- rate with tlieir future destinies. Tliis river jios- stsst'd an interest in my eyes, wliich I am cerUiin it could not have coiinnanded, if its coursi- had been destined to t«'rminate durin;^ my day's walk. The water that tlowed beside me had set <»ut on a lon<:;er )()urniv than any otlur in Kuropr ; for. after tlow- in«4 throu;;h the Ku'jjadine, the Tyrol, and Bavaria, a course (»f itself of 400 miles, it joins the Dainibe at i'as^au, whicii, althou;^di a lari;er stream at that j)oint, has tlowed a slutrter distance, and minified with its imperial watei-s, the hm travels onward to tlie lUack Sea, watering; the whole of Austria, cir- clinu; beneath the proud towers of its metropolis, traversing:; tlu- wide ]>astures and tields of Hun- gary, washing the wails of Tresburg and Test, sweeping past the heights of IJelgrade, and setting limits, as it Hows towards Asia, to the power of empires, and the aml)ition of tliose who govern them. In the neighbourhood of Pont, tlio Ober Enga- dine is at least a league wide; but, in descending, it i-apidly contracts. The mountains on either sidi', although top})ed with snow, do not appear high, because the road, along whicii you travel, is itself not much below the i-egion of snow\ 1 found the wh(tle country undei* meadow, scarcely any of w hich was yet ready for th«- scythe ; an«l, at first, one cannot help feeling some surpris<' at seeing so great a (|uantity of grass, ap}>arently so ill-proportioned to the probable demand ; but when wf consider tliat the moimrainsare covered with cattle, in which consist almost tlu- whole riches of the inhabitants, and that these nuist be i)rovided for during a long winter (»f eight months, our surprise is of cmirse at an end. It is onlv in the neighbourhood of the villages that grain is to be found in any consider- able (juantity ; and this never exceeds tlie wants of tlie itdiabitants. Kvi-rv single liouse has its own jtatch of corn for its own consumption ; but uj)on the domestic and rural economy of the two Enga- dines, 1 hope to be ahle to speak more fully, when I iiave made the tour of tlu' c(tuntry. During my day's walk, I jiassed through many large villages, the names of which 1 do not ncol- lect, hut whose si/e appeared to me very dispropor- tionate to the extent of the valley in which I found them. The great size of the houses, iiowever, partly accounts foi- this. In no part (jf Europe have I seen the houses of the natives so large, as I found them throughout the whole of the I'nter and Ober Entradine. liut the villaues and houses of the Engadine merit a more j)articular deseription. A village in every part of the Engadine is tlie same. It consists of one street, longer or shortt'r as niay be, with some few and very short latt-ral openings, scarcely deservhig tlie name of str(>ets. In some part of the street, there is an oi)en space, with a fountain in the centre — plain, but not inele- gaiit ; and closely adjoining the village, though seldom forming a part of it, is the village church — in size and architecture nearly resembling the churches in the country parishes of Scotland. In all this there is nothing remarkable ; but in the appearance of the houses wliich form the village, the same cannot be said. The first thing one re- marks, is their extraordinary size. The walls which enclose the dw. lliiii; of a substantial Prison's house, would admit within them the largest houses that are to be found in London, with some few ex- ceptions, (lenerally spi'aking, they cover an area greater than that oeeupieainti'd, that it is difficult, until you api»roach very near, to be- lieve that they are any thing else than the work of the sculi)tor. The gateway is generally spanned bv a fine arch, ornamented, as these often are in architecture, by tasteful designs. Tlu- win-lows have generally their pillars, and are often sur- mounted by a well-conceived (Jreek ])ediment. Sometimes, indied, every i)art of the walls are painted in one uniform design, the whole front and sides being set off with pillars and pilasters, and a tine pediment ; so that such a budding, if it stood single, might be mistaken, at a di.-taiice, for a (ire- cian temi>le. It is difficult to undeistaiid how this custom and taste have arisen. The i)ainting is for the most part old, and in some places renewed, but not with ecpial skill ; anle from an opulent and a great country. In this remote village there are many rich ; and some wlio would not be looked upon as poor, even in England. I was informed, that two peasants of Suss pos- sessed, each, as much as 20,000/. sterling ! The inns in the Engadine are ill supj)lied with provisions : few strangei-s have need of them : they are only frequented by the villagers, who resort there to eat their moreel of cheese, as a seasoning to their pint of wine. I generally could get good eggs, milk, bread, butter, cheese, and sotuetimes a little fish. It was in this inn that I heard the eulogium upon Grison liberty, mentioned in another chapter. I found here several individuals, whom, but for their undue reverence for the shadow of liberty enjoyed by them, I would have termed intelligent men. The habit, so prevalent, of seeking fortunes in other countries, and of returiung to invest it in their own, has sprinkled these valleys with men of con- siderable information and acquirements ; and in this little alehouse — for it was nothing better — in a remote corner of the Grisons, a conversation was carried on, far superior in tone to any that I have ever heard in any of the commercial rooms in an English inn. 1 was somewhat sur])rised, upon being conducted to my chamber, which was but a garret, to find the pillow w ith an inner coverhig of blue satin, and the pillow-ca.se, as well as the coun- terpane, set off" with rich lace, at least nhie inches broad. I had resolved to spend the following day in this village, for being one of the largest and best- informed places I should meet with, and lying, besides, about the centre of the valley which bears the name of Ober and Unter Engadine, it seemed to me a likely spot to obtain information respecting the country and the people. In the whole of the Engadine, the land belonirs to the peasantry, who, like the inhabitants of every other place where this state of things exists, vary greatly in the extent of their possessions. If a peasant owns from eight to fifteen cows, and land sufficient for their su[q)ort, as well as for growing what is consumed in his own family, he is esteemed in good circumstances. He consumes whatever part of the produce of his dairy is needed at home : and he sells the surplus, chiefly the cheese, which he keeps till the arrival of the travelling merchant, who buys it for exportation. Generally speaking, an Engadine peasant lives entirely upon the jiro- duce of his land ; with the excej)tion of the few articles of foreign growth required in his family, such as coffee, sugar, and wine. These he finds at the house of the inn-keeper, who, in the Engadine, is always a retail-dealer in such articles ; for there is not a shop of any description in the Unter Enga- dine, and only one or two in the Ober Engadine. The peasant luis his own cheese, butter, milk, eggs; and kills a cow or a pig occasionally, if he can afford this, keeping a part of it fresh, selling a little to OJ THE GRISUNS. [CHAr. VIII, those who are not rich enough to kill any of their stock, and salting the rest for the use of his family. There cannot be said to be any regidar markets throughout the Engadine, so that it is difficult to say what is the value of the dittVrent articles of subsistence. There is no occasion for markets, be- cause it is nobody's interest either to sell or to buy. Sometimes, liowever, meat is ottered for sale in small (juantities ; and soinetinifs an over-abundant, or a scanty supply of the articles of the dairy, tempts some to sell, and forces othei"S to buy. In these cases, meat sells at al)out 3d. j)er lb., butter about 8d. ; wiue is at all times moderate in price throughout the Engadine, and good in quality. Of course none is grown there ; it is all imported from the V'ateline. In enumerating the articles which the Grison of the Engadine is supplietl with from his own property, I omitted to mention Hax, which is grown, prepared, spun, and woven, without ever leaving his house. He has also his own wool, which is converted into a blue coat, without passing through the hands of either the dyer or the tailor : the latter vocation is invariably exercised by the females of the house. Several persons with whom I conversed at Suss, spoke in high terms of the hai)piness of the inha- bitants. " How can we be otherwise than happy and contented," said they, "■ when we have ampK- means of living, and are dependent upon nobody for tlie least portion of that which contributes to our ease V This, 1 ailmittetl, was nmch ; and when 1 hinted at the want of society, and the rigour of a nine months' winter, tiiey made light of the latter ; and inunediately began to put me right in the view 1 took of their societv. Tliev assure*! me, that in the winter no place was gayer than the Engam among the rocks. At the top of the second range of rocks runs the roa ' ; and here, also, is the peoi)led and cultivated part of the val- ley. Here the mountains slope backward, leaving now and then little plains of half a mile across, or undulating platforms of even greater width. These, and the slopes of the mountains, are covered with ";rass, and occasional fields of rye. In these also lie the villages, around which the wants of the in- habitants have forced a more varied product from the imwillinji soil. Small enclosures of wheat are seen. Rye is more prevalent than grass. In the corner of every field grows a little flax ; and by the side of every house there is an attempt at a garden, whose stock is confined to a few potatoes, cabbage, and lettuce. A few gooseberry-bushes, too, are here and there to be seen ; but no fruit- tree of any kind is visible. Above the })eopled and cultivated sIojjcs, tln» mountains rise to the region of snow, and show, throughout the valley on either side, a range of snow-peaks and naked rocks. Such is the aspect of the Engadine. The day ujjou which I walked through tliis part of the Engadine, was intolerably hot. This, and the fatiguing nature of the road, reiuh'red my pro- gress slow ; and it was mid-day before I reached the village of Fettam. Here I could find no auberge ; but a well-dressed boy, who was standing at the door of a very respectiible-looking house, and to whom I addi-essed myself for informatiim, told me, that the house belonged to the professor ; and, anxious to find a cool resting-place, as well as to know who tliis professor at Fettam might be, I took the liberty of entering, and introducing myself. I found a white-haired old gentleman of fourscore years, who received me with the greatest urbanity. He was just going to dine, and urged me to partake the meal with him, which I had no inclination to refuse. Three vouths sat down to dinner with us : and the dinner, although not very varied, was abundant and wliolesome. The old gentleman informed me, that he had lived in the village of Fettam ever since the revolu- tion of 1789. He was a Frenchman ; and, having lost his all in that fearful season of strife and anarcliy, he had left his native land, and travelled into the country of the Grisons, and into the valley of the Engadine. In this village he found a home in the house of the cure, on condition of his teaching his children the French, Latin, and German lan- guages. At forty, he was not too old to enter into matrimonial engagements ; and the good minister being called from his duties in this world, and having one daughter of twentv-eiijht vears old, she ac- cepted her instructor, and for thirty yeai*s they had lived happily together. But the old man was now once more left alone. During all this while, he had employed himself in the instruction of youth. The richer peasants, who intended that one of their fa- mily should seek his fortune in other countries, sent him to live with the professor, there to acquire the language of the people among whom fortune was to be sought ; and as he had grown old, he had grown rich. He had still three pupils ; but he told me he could live without them ; though, having been so long accustomed to the business of instruction, he found it necessary to his happiness to continue his vocation. This gentleman was well acquainted with the people among whom he lived. How, indeed, could he be otherwise, after forty years' residence among them I From him 1 obtained an important corro- i boration of what I had heard and seen respecting the condition and character of the inhabitants of these valleys. He told me that the people were proud of their freedom, and contented with their condition. He explained to me, that the reason why so many of the young men left their country to seek fortune in other quarters, was not owing to any dissatisfaction with home, nor even to a vague desire of seeing the world, but that this arose from a cer- tain hal)it of thinking, which teaches every peasant of the Engadine, from his earliest youth, to look with horror upon a state of dependence ; and as every fa- ther cannot leave to a numerous family a patrimony sufficient to secure them all against dependence, one or two sacrifice themselves to the general good : and so sober and industrious is the general character of the Grisons of these valleys, that the greater number of those who have left their home when youths, return to it before their best years be over, and before the death of friends and relatives has rob- bed home of its greatest chann. For the most part, these young men carry away with them fi-om 300 to 500 francs. They direct their steps to any of the great cities — to Paris, Marseilles, Lyons, or Bour- deaux, and perhaps spend a hundred francs upon their jouniey. Three or four hundred francs are therefore left, one-half of which, perhaps, they offer to the master of any well-frequented c.LL of some good wheat, and, care. At all events, m the ^ll^^^^ ^^^U ^"^ "^^^^ here and there, 1 noticed a few cherry- they generally open a confeet.oner « « '" ' ;^"^ i ^^^^ fruit-trees 1 had seen in the Enga- aeMuireasuttieientsumtocarrybacktotheunatuc trees }^^J^l'^\^^^ j ^^^^^^ sevei-al of our forest- trees, and an infinity of wild roses, besides a nuniber of shrubs that could not have nourished in anv other part of the valley. The ditferenee in elevation between S'lra Juiiia, the highest in- vallev though not vet sufficient to purchase repose They 'then become travelling merchants between their own countrv and th«^sc> parts where they pur- ehase forei-Mi articles for home-consumption ; and it freciuently happens, too, that, even after their permanent settlement at home, they retam a shop in some distant city, to which they pay an annual visit In the absence of the proprietor, the busi- ness of tlu> shop is not intrusted to a stranger, >)ut is alwavs conducted by some young man of the .same vidlev, or, perhaps, of the same village, who is fortunate enough to get at once into so exce lent a road to fortune, and who willingly juiys some hun- dred trancs for the privilege. In time, he purchases the proprietorv, and becomes rich in iiis turn. Before leaving the house of my kind entertainer, I (luestioned him respecting the state of e.lucation in the Eiigadine. He told me there was no want of it. Schools were every where to be had, where readin<', writing, and aritlinu'tic were tauglit,at the moderate charge of thirty .<<',(, {Unl) a month— this being a charge every one in the Engadme can attord to pay. Every child goes to school, and eonseipientlv there are very few who are ignorant ot the essential elements of knowledge. I omitted to in(iuire w hat salary the schoolmasters receive ; but, jutlging from the scanty salary of the ministers, 1 shouUriiresume the remuneration must be small. These have not more than 2.V. i>er annum ; and, like the ministers of religion in every country, 1 understood that some were tlcscrving of more, and othei-s of scarcely what they had. The laboui-s ot a minister of religion, one would think, must be light and pleasant in a country like the Engadine, where there is nothing to tcinjit the rich into the Howery {laths of vice, and ^^h(■l•e that worst enemy of morality, poverty, is unknown. There is not (»n<- pauper iu' the two Engadines ; yrt, even then', 1 haVnted part of the Upper Engadme, and Martins bruck, the lowest part of the Enter Engadine, is nearlv ^000 feet ; which might well account lor a greater dittereiice in the vegetable productions than I have remarked. It was after sunset when I reached the extreme point of the Engadine, iMar- tinsbruck, where the Austrian arms, displayed over the door of the custom-house hard-by, led me to look back ui)on the valley through which 1 had passed with greater pleasure, and ni)on the boasts even of Grisou liberty with greater indulgence. chai'ti:r IX. THE COUNTRY OF THE GlllSONS— THE VALLEY OF THE LTl'EU RHINE. Return to Chur, througli tlie Engadines— Instance of Gross Imposition— The Batlis of Plctfcrs-State of Society in Chur— Reunions and Balls— Statistical Details— Journey up the Rheinwaia by ihe Sources of the Rhine— Character of the Valley of the" lpi)er Rhine— {'harming Scenery— llanz — Crison Imposition — Examples of Dishonesty- Road to Dissentis— Picture of Idleness— Domestic Eco nomy of the Inliahitants of the Valley of the Upper Rhine —Wages of Labour — Dissentis. I (oii.i^ not regain Chur by any other road than that bv which I had come from it ; and, as it is somewhat tedious to walk over the same ground twii-e, 1 accepted the offer of a seat in a little chariot, nartlv on sprmus, which was going with some tri- InTL r;;; ;;::\r;^:;;;;i:ty wouUl ^lui;: in' \ llm merdlancUse to suss, and early, next morning lead n " '' Xu i^id my mission thwarted, I was en route. I fouinl it impossib e, however, md n^ L^^^ aULd. It isirne, 1 have n.-ith..!- with con.mon prudence, to iiut^ much us^o^ die to contend auainst the sins that et.s.iaiv the rich cnvetuence I had bargained ioi ^1'^; '^^ .^;;'^^ an or the temptations that drag on the p..or ; asleep every moment, and m roads nuchas Hiavc but envies and jealousii-s, human failings and hu- man passions, are found here, as elsewliere ; and hi the Engandine even, a man may live ' without Uod in the world.'" About two o'clock I took leave of the professor, and continued my journey. After passing through Eettam, the road gradually appnjaches the rivi-r ; and durin*'" the remainder of the day, I skirted precipices,''that, accustomerivileges, I found reason to be pleased with the conversation, and certainly conceived from it a very favourable idea of Orison information. History, geography, and the political state of Kuroi)e, formed the topics of discourse ; and some few seemed also to have a little ac(iuaintance with the literature of England. I un- derstood, howi-ver, that general literature is l)ut little cultivated, and that then? is no good library in the counti'y. The Orisons is the largest canton of the con- federation, next to Berne. They say it derives its name from the gray colour of the men's dnssrs ; but if so, the name outlives the cause from which it originated, because at present the men's coats and pantaloons are almost universally blue. The two great valleys of the (Jrisons, are the valley of the Inn, which comprises the two Engadines, and the valley of the Upper Rhim', in the lower part of which Chur is situated. There are several other lateral valleys ; but far inferior to these in extent and ])opulation. The country contains no jdains whatever. I have already mentioned the transit of goods by the Splugen, as a source of w ealth to Chur, with other parts of the Orisons. There is an ex- tensive trade in cattle with Italy, returning to the country, as some say, a profit of 50,000/. The ex- port of cheese is very inconsiderable ; it is chiefly consumed among tliemselves, though a little of the coarser kinds passes into France and Italy. The cheeses of the finest kind are too delicate to bear transportation. Bread, wine, vegetables, and fruit, are dear in the Orisons. They do not grow a third of the wheat they consume, and scarcely a half of the rye. A little w ine is nuide in the lower part of the valleys, and is not disagreeable in flavour ; but is so small in (juantity, that the price of foreign wine is scarcely affected by it ; and, excepting in the neighbourhood of Chur and Mayenheld, and in some low parts of the valley of liregaglia, it is only the hardier kinds of vegetal>les that arrive at pei-fection ; and the cherry is the only abundant fruit. The route I selected to pass from Chur to the central parts of Switzerland, is the only one I could have chosen, except that by which 1 had arrived. There is no carriage-road— 1 might say no road at all— from any of the other cantons of Switzerland int+> the Orisons, excepting by Mayenfield, where the road branches into two, one leading to the Wal- lenslatter lake, by which the reader will recollect to have already travtlled with me ; the other run- ning due north, skirting the Tyrol, and leading to St. Oall, &c. The route 1 resolved to take from Chur, was to ascend the valley of the Upper Rhine, called the (Jrison Oberland, or Rheinwald, and the valley of Tavetch, to ]»ass between Mounts Badus and Tombohorn, by the sources of the Rhine, and so reach the Canton of Uri. By adopting this route, I should have the advantage of having journeyed through almost every i)art of the (Prisons, and of seeing a part of Switzerland almost untravelled. I left Chur, as usual, at break of day, well satis- fied w ith my treatment in the house of Daniel Denz ; and after about an hour's walk through a very fine fi-rtile country, I found myself upon the banks of the Rhine, which I was now' to trace upwards to that infancy, from which the mightiest river and the tiniest rill must alike begin its race. CHAP. IX.] THE ORISONS. 27 L There are few rivers more interesting than the Rhine, whether on account of the variety of coun- tries through which it passes, the charming scenery to be found on its banks, or the historical associa- tions witli w hich it is connected. The course of the Rhine is not so long, by some hundred miles, as that of the Danube, nor does it bathe the walls of so manv great and metropolitan cities. Commercially, however, it is a river of greater importance. The free navigation of the Rliine is of so much import- ance, as to form an article of treaties, and to set nations by the ears. The ])ros]>erity of Frankfort, and of many other important places, depends upon it ; and, without the Rhine and the Mouse, the Low- Countries could never have acquired a consequence among the countries of Europe, which, fi*om their extent, they are not entitled to ])ossess. The Upper Rhine may be said to extend from its source to its entry into the lake of Constance. The Lower Rhine to comprehend its course from the lake of Constance to the Oerman Ocean. The fall, of coui-se, interrupts the navigation of the river, so that the navigation of the Upper and Lower Rhine is entirely distinct ; but the navigation of the Upper Rhine is of verv inferior moment. The Rhine, where I now met with it, is not much larger than the River Derwent at Matlock. It is certainlv not so large as the Tweed at Melrose. Its watere are extremely transparent, as, indeed, the Rhine is well know n to be throughout all its course. A fine broad road leads from Chur as far as RicJie- nau, three leagues from Chur ; but at this j)lace it turns to the left, leading into Italy ; and the road up the Rhine then becomes what we should call in England a cart-road only. Richenau is a large and handsome inn, used by the inhabitants of Chur as a place of festivity ; and it is there that the reunion of young persons, of which 1 liave already spoken, is generally held during the winter. I do not recollect, in any part of Switzerland, to have travelled through so captivating a country as that which lies between Richenau and IJanz, a vil- lage lying about ten leagues up the Rhine. Some- times the road skirts the river — always a pleasant eomj)anion,even when it runs away from us ; some- times it mounts up a steep bank, overhung with charming foliage, and winds along the face of the rocks, while only occasional glimpses are caught of the stream that sparkles bt^low ; then we descend again, and pass through a little plain, green and shady, over which the river strays in a hundred windings, and again the steep banks force the road ujtward ; and now we leave the river for a sea- son ; and, after many ascents and descents, and frequent turnings, we find ourselves among those back alj>ine valleys, nnIui-Ii to me form the most chai'ming feature of Swiss scenery. It was a cap- tivating scene that opened before me ; it was a basin among the mountains, and the road made the circuit of it. The Rhine flowed about a league to the left, but it was not visible — a high wall of wooded rocks shut it out. In the basin below, a plain of a mile across, hay-harvest was gather- ing ; — some part of the plain was a smooth and verdant carpet, other parts were dotted with hay- ricks, and on half a dozen little eminences in this basin were placed as many cottages. Behind, the mountains rose in various ledges, falling backward and backward, but not in any order ; — hillocks gar- nished the sides of the mountains, and knolls rose upon the little mountain -platforms, all of the freshest green ; and numerous herds of cattle browsed upon every height. Far back upon the mountains, were deeper valleys and wooded ravines ; and from the highest and most distant ridge were seen numerous cascades, which had united into the one stream, that slowly wandered over the little plain at my feet. I w ish it were possible, by means of words, to exhibit to the reader a living picture, and that I possessed that power. It was long before the road returned to the river. It first made many windings among the mountains, passing through one or two little villages^ — villages forming little worlds within themselves, because beyond the din of the great world, and showing the traveller scenes among which the great highways of the world can never lead him. At length I found myself again above the river, which 1 saw at an immeasurable depth below, skirting the edge of one of the most frightful precipices 1 ever beheld ; and gradually the road descended, till it reached the brink of the Rhine, then flowing in diminished volume through a Uttle winding wooded vallev. I cannot tell how all this day passed away. 1 frequently sat down among the beautiful spots I passed through ; and it is possible I may have di'eamed away an hour. But 1 know, that,* when I reached the river, it was sparkling beneath the last rays of the sun, that came slanting over the distant mountain-tops ; and the last league of my journey, the moon lighted me on my way. I wandered a considerable w hile through the streets of this little town, before I was able to find the inn. Everybody was in bed ; but at length I stumbled upon what seemed rather an occasional inn, than a regular rendezvous for strangers ; and, indeed, where so few sti*angers come, the business of an auherted tlu'ir demands to this rule ; and, even at this day, although the majority of travelling English act with greater prudence, there are still many excep- tions ; and when you offer a Swiss something rea- sonable and just for his services, nothing is more common than to be told, that itn M'>ft.on my ignorance of Swiss coinage, nion* y either altogether false, ot di'- preciated value, (u-'useless in the country of the (irisons, ma mere robbery ; and of this description was the demand made at llanz, where 1 now am. 1 had j bread, milk, and two eggs for sui)i)er — this was all the house afforded ; anv.'' 1 told him 1 would not pay it. " How can you helj) it V said he, with the utmost effrontery ; and, in short, 1 purchased leave to go upon my journey, by submitting to be robbed. I could mention several other iiistances of robbery to match this. And with respect to begging hi the (jlrist)ns, how do the peasants manage to reconcile tlieir cui)idity with tlieir independence I They manage in this way. They enqdoy their children to beg in the neighbourhood of Chur ; and, on the road to the Jiatn.^ dc ri('ffti\<, where the inhabitants are accustomed to see strangers, you cannot pass a hamlet, witiiout being ussaiU'd by children, while the parents, richer perhaps than } ou are, stand at the door with an air of (Irison independence. But this is not all — when I have refu>ed to give any thing (and, 1 need scarcely say, I always did re- fuse), 1 have been fre(iuently hooted at, and pelted with stones ; and, upon one occasion, when 1 turned ic back, to bestow a little wholesome cha-stisenKUt upon some boys past the age of children, two or three men, and as many women, all of whom liad seen the misconduct of the boys, rushed from the cotUige-door, and showed, by their menaces, that I should act wisely in submitting to be pelted with stones in so free a country us the (irisons. So much for (irison honesty, and Cirison civilization. The situation of Hanz, the town where I was so grossly imposed upon, is particularly agreeable. The Rhine is here joined by a considerable stri-am, called the Cileimer, which adds at least one-third to its waters. In ascending the Rhine from Hanz to Dissentis, the road geiuraily keeps mar to the rivir. The greater narrowness of the valley forces them to be close companions. The character of the valley is now cimsiderably changed. It is not only narrower, but wilder and less fertile. The crojis of grain were scaiitv ; but the ^rass on the meadows was tine and abundant. I noticed a considerable (juantity of land lying waste, that might have been under tillage. The fields were less carefully prei>ared than in the lower parts of the valley, the road much worse, and the villages jioorer and dirtier ; altogether, there appeared a want of industry, of which I had seiii | no trace in any other i)art of the (irison country. ] All this was explained uj«on entering a pretty large | village about mid-day. The men were assembled in an open area in front of the church, standing, sitting, walking uj) and down ; the wonu n were sitting at their doois, or leaning out of the windows ; no one was in the fields ; it wasa /o«/- d* j\te, some saint's day ; but which sauit, 1 forget. The inha- bitants of this part of the valKy .f the Upper Rhine all profess the Roman catholic laitli ; and, unfortunately for this district, it hap{tens, that tlio.se at the head of religious affairs lend too jiositive a sanction to the ol)servan(e of those feasts, which are not obligatory upon all catholics, but which an- left to the conscience, and which vary in almost every jurisdiction. Inaction could not have been more iii(d-aj>r(>pos, than at the present moment ; the ground was covered with hay, for the most j'art cut, and ready to l»e housed ; the weather had been unsettled, and still looked dubious, but all morning the sun had been out ; and a better afternoon, either for making or leading hay, could not have been desired ; and yet the whole population of the village was idle. 1 pity, but do not blame the vil- lyirt-i-f,; — the fault does not rest with them. ^riie inliabitants of the valleys of the Ujtper Rhine resemble, in their domestic economy, those of the Engadine, and other parts of the (Jrisons. Like them, they are proprietors, and, like them, live u})on the produce of their land. Nothing is bought in these valleys, excepting coffee, sugar, indigo, and salt. Excepting the trade of tailor, which is exercised by the females of every family, the ordinary handicrafts are followi'd by individuals lired to tiiem ; and the wages of labour throughout the (Jrisuns are high. A iaiionrer in the helds re- ceives from thirty sous (lod.) up to 2s. ; a car- penter's wages are three francs per day ; a mason's scarct'lv Kss ; a shoemaker's two francs ; so that the industrious find amjile remuneration. Jf a traveller ask tlu- distance from one place to another in the (irisons, the rej)ly is somewhat i»uz- zling, Sujjposing the distance to l»e two leagues, if \ou are on foot, the answer will be two hours ; if on' horseback, oiie hour; if in any wheeled con- /• »• niAP. X.] THE GRISONS. 29 vevance, as many hours as the person to whom you ad«h-ess 'yourself thinks sufficient for the journey ; so that all hour means no specific distance, biit ex- i)resses whatever distance you are able to go in an hour. As I walked out of the holiday village, I saw a considerable number of the inhabitants as- sembled by tlie river-side shooting at a target — an exercise very much i)ractiscd throughout Switzer- land, and much encouraged by the government. I did not stop to observe their skill. I was sorry to see so many persons spending the afternoon in idle- ness, when' close by were several fields of hay, whiclt a few hours' labour might have secured. 'l"he character of the valley was now materially cliano-ed. It was quite an ui)land valley. The Rhine was shrunk into a stream not thirty yards across. There was no grain ; and fir was the only wood to be seen ; l»ut gigantic firs they were, such as i had never seen, excepting in Norway. The road in this part of the valley is fitted only for a pedestrian, though carts occasionally pass along it. In one j.lace it had entirely given way ; and I saw the mark, and part of the remains, of the veliicle that had fallen down, liefore reaching Dissentis, you enter among the moimtains, and the village stands ujx)!! an outer elevated ])latform, tlie Rhine ff(»wing in a deep bed below, with all the charac- teristics of a mountain-stream. The extreme bad- ness of the road had made the day's journey fatigu- iii" ; and I was well pleased, therefore, to find mvself entering the town, especially as a storm was evidently brooding. CHAPTER X. IHE GUISONS. Tlic Scenery of the Lower and the Upper Rhine compared — Dissentis, and the Valley of Tavetch — Life in the remote Alpine Valleys— Passage of the Mountains — Ciamut — The Hhine near its Sources — Ohservations upon the Sources of Hivcrs, and Description of the Sources of the Khine — Mountain Prospects— The Lake of the Oberalp, and Soun-es of the Reuss — A dangerous Bog — Descent into the Canton of Uri — The Valley of Ursern. With Dissentis ends the valley of the lq)per Rhine ; and here the valley of Tavetch begins, if the prin- cipal feature in the scenery of a valley be consi- dered to lie the river that traverses it, tlien tliere is no comj)arison between the scenery of the valleys of the Upper and Lower Rhine. The Lower Rhine is a majestic river ; the Ujiper Rhine an inconsi- derable stream. But if, on the contrary, the river is to be considered but one, and not the most import- ant feature in the landscape, the valley of the Upper Rhine, I rather think, is entitled to be pri'ferred. For my own part, I have no hesitation in according it the preference, chiefly because of the greater variety which it includes. The finest scenery be- comes tedious by repetition : and, with all the attractions of the Lower Rhine, it can scarcely be denied, that, in the character of its banks, there is a sameness that in some degree damps the enjoy- ment of a voyage. But the scenery of the Rhine, as the Lpwer Rhine is called par exceUeuc*:, is so great a favourite with everybody, that 1 dare not say any thing more in disparagement of it. I had scarcely taken my seat in the inn, when the storm 1 had seen broodm^ burst among the mountains ; and as I saw it take the direction of the valley I had ascended, 1 recollected the /o?jo, who wanders half-naked upon his inhospitable shore, is as happy as the enlightened inhabitant of a metropolitan city. If so, to what purpose is the ditVusion of knowled<;e \ And 'why attempt to raise men in the scale of hu- manity { It is a mistake to suppose that i-,Mvoi-ance is e(iuivalent to enjoyment ; and that he who never tasted a pleasure is *not the less happy, inasmuch as he cannot feel the want he has never enjoyed. This, I sav, is an error, and would strike at the root of aU impVovement. Man has many capabilities ; and the more of these that are called into action, the more numerous are his sources of enjoyment. The inhabitant of Dissentis is less hapjty than the inhabitant of Paris or London; and our surprise that any one can pass his life in such a place, is therefore not only natural, but philosophical. But, to return from this digression— Dissentis is a miser- able village, of one narrow, dirty street, but looked down upon by a magnihcent monastery, which is situated upon' a hillock close by. This monastery was some time ago almost entirely destroyed by fire ; but it is partly rebuilt, and 1 believe contains a large library and some valuable manuscripts, which might as well have perished in the tlames, if they are to remain for ever buried in the Benedictine abbey of Dissentis. After having ])assed one night at Dissentis, I left it tolerably early next morning to pass the moun- tains. My course from Dissentis lay up the valley of Tavetch, wliich is the last valley of the (Irisons, and which teniiinates at the foot of the highest ranges of Mount Badus and the C'rispalt. If it be possible, I always travel without a guide ; but this incumbrance is sometimes indispensable ; and so I found it in passing from the country of the Gri- soiis to the Canton of Uri. In leaving Dissentis, I found by the way-side abundance of sweetbriar, sweetmarjoram, and sweetwilliam, which ensured me a pleasant nosegay for my journey. The road — only a horse-road — winds round the mountain sides, showing, very far beneath, the deep ravine that contains the Rhine. All the way to Ciamut the road is liighly interest- ing. It ascends continually, always keeping above the deep bed of the river, and every moment open- ing up new and striking views into the heart of the majestic mountains that separate the Italian fron- tier from the (rrisons. Ciamut lies al)out two leagues and a half up the mountains from Dissentis. Its height above the level of the sea is stated to be upwards of 5000 feet ; and, at such an elevation, it is scarcely neces- sary to say, that, excepting a little rye, no grain is cultivated. The village is a congregation of scat- tered houses, for the most part miserable enough ; and a church, dedicated to the Romish worship, overlooks them. I saw the cur(; walking in the neighbourhood, and could not help pitying the man of education condemned to so cheerless a life. From Ciamut there is only a track, which leads from one platform to another, higluT and higher up. most wretched abodes 1 had seen in any part oi j Switzerland. The houses were mere hovels, black with smoke, and exposed on all sides to the bitter winds that belong to the neigliVxiurhood of eternal snow. The few inhabitants 1 saw scarcely wore the aspect of human beings; they were covered with filth and rags, and showed, in their counte- nances, the i>overty— the hopeless jKJverty that was their lot. Wretched, indeed, is the lot of soine ! What a contrast is exhibited between the condition of an inhabitant of one of these hamUts, spending his days in that desolate valley, shut out from every one comfort, his intell.'ct fruitless in enjoyment, his nourishment, day after day, goats' milk and the coarsest bread ; and the condition of him who can command, in the heart of a civilized country, every enjoyment that a cultivated intellect can demand, and 'every luxury that the body can desire! To the selfish man, a contemplation like this is pli-a- sant ; to the philanthropist, it is painful. For my own i)art, 1 fear 1 am more inclined to indulge in self-congratulation, than to commiserate the con- dition of my less fortunate brethren. Soon after leaving the last of these handets, and after an ascent of al)out an hour, 1 found mysi-lf in the highest reach of the valley of Tavetch. It was a greei^'^ciuiet, narrow valley, in the centre of which flowed the Rhine, now shrunk to the dimensions of a rivulet ten yards across. The sides of the valley are the flanks of lofty mountains, but the bed of the stream is not deep.* Here and there it forms a cascade ; and between these, it may be said almost to meander through this alpine valley, which is about two leagues in length, and nearly level. About half-wav up this valley, a stream, flowing from the right,'joiiis that which flows through the valley. This ctunes from the Crispalt, and is con- sidered t(» be one of the anterior sources of the Rhine. The other branch, however, which flows down the valley, is the larger ; and as its coui^se is said to be longer, it may pi-rhaps be considi-red the prm- cii)al of the two anterior sources of the river. Near the head of the valh^y, which is now but a ravhie, I found this branch again divide into two ; and the stream which flowed from the left, tumbling down the mountain side— a part of Mount Badus— the guide pointed out as the Rhine. The other or lesser branch was nameless. But, after all, are not the sources of rivei-s conventional I Who can pretend to determine which are the sources of the Rhine, or what branches of the same stream are entitled to bear its name \ In passhig up the valley of Ta- vetch, several fine streams contribute their watei-s to the Rhine, and yet are denied its name ; and at the point at which 1 had now arrived, where one branch Hows from the left, and where the other comes from the direction in which the nuiin body of the river afterwards flows, the former is called the Rhine, and the latter, whose course is (luite as long, is a nameless mountain rivulet. The reason of tills distinction I think I can account for. I fol- lowed the branch coming from the left to its source. During about an hour, I mounted the steep ravine or gorge in which it flows, and then reaclu'd a [)lain of some extent near the summit of Mount Badus. In this plain I found a lake from which the stream i-ssues. This is a definite and single source. It is true, that this lake seemed to have many feeders, which I saw farther back— mere threads of foam AnJ;":™ I stm Ibuud T^: CZu:^;^^ ,„,„■.., W, tl,e ,laci..rs, euC, „f which contribute.. to form a source of the Rhine ; but the lake, and the one stream that flows out of it, form a defined source ; and, therefore, this branch enjoys the repu- tation of being the principal of the two anterior sources of that river. The same distinction is de- nied to the other branch, which I have .spoken of as a nameless rivulet, because it has no defined source. Such, at least, is the only ex])lanation I am able to give. My ])ath acro.ss the mountain led me u|> the side of this latter stream, and 1 found it im- possible to assign to it any definite source. It is formed by innumerable minute rills, and small springs that rise on every side as you ascend, im- percej)til)ly swelling the main stream ; and at length you entirely lose it in the boggy ground that forms the iijiper |)art of the pass. I was now above the sources of the Rhine, and, looking back, I saw it beneath me, setting out on its long journey. Before me was the more imposing source of another, though a less celebrated river, the Reuss. The scenery here is of the most majestic character. The snowy summits of Badus and the Crispalt rise on every side ; behind, stretches downward, in long windings, the vallev of Tavetch, carrying the Rhine in its bosom, and losing itself in the dark forests that stretch over the lower part of the mountains. In front, dark, deep, and calm, lies the lake of the Oberalp, the largest of all the Upper Alpine lakes — surmounted by the snowy peaks of the Badus and the Crispalt. At this place, the ])ath became diffi- cult and even dangerous. There was, in fact, no marked path. A considerable quantity of snow was accumulated in many places, and beneath, it was entii'ely excavated by streams. After passing these snow heaps without any accident, a still greater difficulty arose. A formidable bog lay be- tween us and the lake, stretching along its head, ami traversed by several deej) streams which strayed leisurely through it. My guide was evi- dently at a loss. The ])ath, he said, was never the same two consecutive summers ; and this summer no one had yet crossed. The greatest caution was necessary in making every step ; and we were fre- quently obliged to w ithdraw our feet, which, by a very slight pressure, had sunk to a considerable depth. Contrary to the usual practice, I left my guide. In one direction the bog seemed less for- midable ; but a deep and tolerably broad stream must be passed. The guide, however, assuring me, that if I could reach the lake 1 should find a fine gravelly bottom, I attempted this, and succeeded in lea[)ing over the stream, from which I soon reached the lake, and found that the guide had spoken truly. I therefore walked in the water all the way round the head of the lake, till 1 got en- tirely clear of the bog, and found a firm footing the w hole distance, at the depth of from two to three feet of water. As for the guide, he was more than an hour before he came uj) w ith me. Not thinking it prudent to attempt leaping the stream, he had endeavoured to pick his steps across the bog ; but found this impracticable, and was obliged at last to follow my example, though w ith not quite the same success ; for he was not able entirely to clear the stream, and scrambled out with some difficulty. There is scarcely any kind of danger that I would not more readily encounter than the danger of a bog : it is of a hidden kind, and human coui'age and human effort are alike impotent to save. 1 readily admit that niy sensations w ere agreeable, when, seating myself upon a stone upon the mountain side, I looked back, and saw the bog behind me. It is a pleasant feel- ing, too, that which we experience in reaching the highest part of a pass, and in looking at the moun- tains opening below ; but being entirely soaked by walking through the lake, I hastened forward as fast as the nature of the path would allow. This, however, was slow enough. All the way along the side of the lake, a distance, I should think, of at least a league, the banks rise very precipitously, covered with rocks and stones, beautiful to look at, from the scarlet blossoms of the rhododendron which every where abound, but extremely difficult to pass over ; and I hailed with pleasure my arrival at the farther end of the lake, where a small grassy plain stretched into the valley that leads down to the Canton of Uri. The descent into the Canton of Uri is less inter- esting than the ascent from the Grisons. The valleys are indeed green and beautiful ; but there are no sublime prospects ; and you never get so low as the region of wood. The branch of the Reuss, which flows from the lake of the Oberalp, is your companion all the way, flowing in a succession of rapids into the valley of Ursern, where it is joined by the other branches, afterwards flowing in one stream down the vallev which bears its own name — the vallev of the Reuss. The Reuss is a remarkable river on several ac- counts ; not from the length of its course, nor from the volume of its waters ; in both of these it is insig- nificant in comparision with the Rhine, the Rhone, and perhaps even the Aar ; but from its extraordi- nary rapidity — far exceeding that of the Rhone — and from the magnificent scenery which is found upon its banks. The whole course of the river, from the vale of Ursern till it falls into the lake of Lucerne, is a succession of cataracts ; and, in the short space of four leagues, its inclination is no less than 2500 feet. But it is unnecessary to antici- pate, as I purpose descending the valley of the Reuss. The first view that opened before me into the valley of Ursern, particularly pleased me. You un- expectedly reach a platform, and the whole vale lies smiling at your feet. Its beauty is of a quiet and modest kind. It is not like the richer valleys, di- vei-sified with corn-fields and gardens, and with all the variety of fruit and forest-trees. It has none of tliese attractions ; its robe is all green, the fresh- est green in the world. There it lies, environed by eternal snows, a beautiful image of spring in the bosom of winter. I hastened to reach it ; and after about two hours of very rapid descent, I walked into the village of Andermatt, where there is one of the best inns in Switzerland. CHAPTER XI THE CANTON OF URI THE VALLEY OF THE REUSS. Andermatt, and the Valley of Ursern— Rural Economy — Descent of the Valley of the Reuss — The Devil's Bridge- Neglected state of Agriculture, and the causes of it — Scenery of the Valley — Altorf, and its connexion with William Tell— Fluelen, and the Lake of Uri— An Evening on the Lake— Tell's Chapel— Character of the Lake of Uri — Comparison between the Lakes of Switzerland and Swiss Scenery, with the Scenery of the Scotch and English Lakes. Andermatt is the largest of the four villages which hN U'J URI. [CHAI'. XI. sprinkle the little vale of Urscrn. It lies abmit 4500 feet above the level of the sea ; and, with the exeei.tion of a small plantation of old ash trees no wood of any kind is to be seen. But I reeoUect Anasure ; whether beeause it is really deservin- of pleasant reeolleetu.ns, or be- cause, after the wretehed inns of the (.nsons, the inn at Andeniiatt seemed a paradise, 1 am searee y Hble to tell. Before niu;htlall, I had tune to walk as far as Hospital, ani.endent upon the bishop of Chur ; and all the schools are under the management of the priests. The well-known and much-visited Devil's Bridge is only about half a league from Andermatt. Every mountainous country has one or more Devils bridges. Whenever there is a bridge with any thing terrific about it, it receives from the natives of the neighbourhoiul the appellation of Devil\s Brid"e. Wales and Scotland have both their Devil's bridges ; and in Switzerland then' is one in several of tlfe cantons. But the Devil's Bridge, /'^(r t'jw/- A'«(v, is undoubtedly that over the Ueuss. I con- fess it somewhat ilisappointed me ; and yet I can scarcelv tell why. 1 believe I expected that the hei'dit of the bridge above the river would have been much greater. But the chief claim of this bridge to the distinguished rank it holds, does not depc^id upon its elevation— for I'antenbruck in Gla- rus, and several other bridges, are greatly more distinguished in this resiuct but n]nm the tre- mendCus torrent that rushes through the gorge above, and forms first a fall, and then a tine rapid, underneath the arch. It is not unlikely that the improvements then going on in the neighbourhood, may in some de<4ree have weakened the impression which might otherwise have been i)roduced. A new and very substantial bridge, in which the devil can- not claim anv share, is erecting within a few yards of the old one ; and when I reached the spot, 1 found twentv or thirtv workmen busily employed in its construction. I feel well convinced, that the im- pression made upon the mind under circumstances like these, must be feeble in comi)anson with the impression that nsouUI have been made upon it had 1 travelled this country a few years earlier, wluii the old arch spanned the torrent, and when the tra- veller might have been alone with nature, m place of in tht> midst of human labour, and when the only voice heard would have been the voice of the ca- taract. I readilv admit, howevi-r, that the work going on is a most important one. There is not onlv a new bridi^'e erecting, but a new road down the whole vallev of the Ueuss is already lar ad- vanced. It is constructed upon the very best sys- tem of road-makini;. It is safe and broad ; and although the inclination of the valley is an inch and a half 111 the yard, a carriage may be drawn at a lull trot the whole way down. In walking from Andermatt down the valley, 1 met several small carts laden with sacks of Hour, for the use of the inhabitants of Ursern, and ot the upper ])art of the valley. I also met at least twenty women carrving up potatoes and other vegetables. Throughout* the whole of the upper part of the vallev of the Reuss, and in the vale of Ursern, not one stalk of anv kind of grain, nor one vegetable of anv kind is to be seen. There is no doubt, how- ever,' that these might be successfully cultivated. The vale of Ursern produces most excellent i)a.sture, and is admitted to posst-ss a gooil soil. It is far more sheltered than almost any part of the Knga- dine ; and although more elevated than some ]>arts of it, it is less elevatetl than many other parts where rve is grown abundantlv, xNhere ..tlier gram— even wheat— is not a failure, and wher(> all the hardier vegetables are plentiful. But the land throughout all the upi>er part of the valley of the Reuss, and in the lower part of Ursern, is greatly neglected 1 am convinced that grain of one kind and another, and the hardy vegetables, might be cultivated in sutlicient (juantities to supply the wants of the valley ; but the inhabitants sei-m to be contented with*p'»vertv, and leave the soil to nature. I have fre<|ueiitly observed, that in all places where there is a great influx of strangers, the in- habitants are idle, and coiisc-(iuently poor. They trust to casualties ; and hnd it easier to pick up a living bv the wants, and partly by the bounty of travelers, than to labour the ground. This is ob- servable in \cr\ many parts of Switzerland, and mi-ht no doubt be retnarked in other countries also. There are few i)arts of Switzerland more visited than the Devil's Bridg<>, Ursern, and Mount St. (iothard ; and in few places are the efl'ects of this more visible in the impeitVct cultivation of the soil, an.l in the state of the inhabitants. If Ui-sern and the valley of the Reuss were, like the ICngadme, shut out from the rest of the world, the result w..uld be different. It is then that the inhabitants are forced upi.n their resources, and these are found in the exercise of their industry. No one can be otherwi>e than diarmed with the scenerv, in descending the valley of the Reuss. From 'the Devil's Bridge, during at least two leagues, the banks form a succession of tremendous prix'ipices, and the river is itself ono contmued rai)id. I was now on one of the great Swiss high- CHAP. XI.] URI. 33 ways ; and, accordingly, J met tourists at every town, chiefly Flnglish or German. After the Eng- lish, the Germans and Russians travel the mast ; the French the least of all nations. They think too' highly of their own country to go into others in re- quest of either pleasure or profit. It is only men of science who travel ; and tlie consequence of tliis is, that abroad the French have acquired, and probably with justice, tlie character of being' more in(|uiring than the natives of any other country. About two leagues lower down than Andermatt, I fouiKl the valley widen. It was no longer a gorge, but deserved the name by which it is known— tlie' valley of the Reuss. The scenery, too, had some- what changed its character. The rocks that bounded the valley were somewhat less precipitous, and were no longer entiivly naked ; and mingled' with the firs that fringed the river side were some walnut-trees. Cottages, too, were sprinkled here and there, and now and then a hamlet ; still, how- ever, grass only wa.s to be seen. I saw many warm stripes, and even little plains, along the river side, where wheat and vegetables could have been suc- cessfully cultivated ; but I still continued to meet carts laden with flour and potatoes. Pa^ssing through a little village, about nine in the morning, I met upwards of a hundred persons re- turning from i)rayers, all in their holidav clothes. This was no holiday ; but the daily custom here, and m many other of the catholic jurisdictions, is to spend the morning from six to eight in church. I should be sorry to say a word against the habit of daily devotion, or to speak with levity of the duty incumbent upon all, to return thanks to God for the ^ light of another morning ; nor will I even venture to say to those who profess a creed differing from mine that a prayer in the clo.set, and of greater brevity' might be as pleasing to the Deitv ; but I may,' nevertheless, in mentioning a fact, state what seem to be Its results ; and I think it cannot be doubted, that a neglected soil, and imperfect cultivation, are occasioned by tlie many hours daily devoted to prayer and ceremonial, even more thaji by the too frecjuent recurrence of jours (fe ftte. The'strict ca- tholic, who happens to reside withhi a jurisdiction where great encouragement is given to the frequency and prolongation of prayers and ceremonials, spends in church those morning hours which an Eno-Iish labourer spends in the fields The former dresses in the morning in his holidav clothes, and throws them off when he returns ; the latter dresses in the morning for the whole day, and loses no time in dressing and undressing. Nor is it only the morn- ing hours that are lost to labour. At two in the afternoon, the strict catholic of Uri and elsewliere must again throw off his labourer's apparel, put on Ins best clothes, and repair to church. I do trust the reader will not suppose for a moment, that 1 nitend to pass any censure upon those who thus occupy their hours in prayer ; nor even upon those •y whose counsel they are directed. All this may he considered by them essential to salvation ; but *'aii It be for a moment denied, that most hnportant results are thus produced upon the agriculture of a country ? Ask an English farmer what would be the Htect, if a law were passed by whicli all labour were '')r!.idden between the hours of six and eight in tlie in. situated for the enjoyment of the surroun.l.ntr v,.-w<^. I moored mv boat beueatii, and s^ac Ion- withm tlie luilluwed invoinct, lookmg over the lake, ami across to the -reat mountains that bounded it. 1 saw the last smibeam depart from the face of the waters ; and I saw the shadows -niduaily creej^ u}) the moun- tain-side, till the bright hues of evenmg now tor- sakinir one ravine, now another— now leavmg the cottage, and then the chalet— crimsoned only the snowVaks with their dyin- lustre. All was gay as 1 coasted back to Fluelen ; but the dnnness ot evenhig accords well with the gloomy character ot the scenery of Uri. With corn-fields and pleasant pasture, and sprinkled cottages, we look for the har- monv of li-ht and sunbeams ; but with gnm rocks, and deep waters, and dark woods, we feel that the <'lare of light is offensive. Sunbeams have no busi- ness there. A cloudy sky, or the dhn evening, are tlie best act'ompaniments of the subhme. Next monung 1 left Fluelen ; and with a fine breeze from the south, and a well-filled sail, I soon passed the chapel, and approached the head of the fii-st reach of the lake. Nothing can be finer than the view back into the lake of Uri. The situation of this lake is such, that it is impossible to obtain a view of it unless fro picturesque, though still there is mucli beauty niingk-d with it ; and the character of the branch ot Lri IS sublimity. In sailing from Altorf to Lu- cerne, a perfect conception of the principal varieties of lake scenery is obtained. Lucerne is an inter, t'^ting lake also, from the historic recollections with Which It abounds ; for the establishment of Swiss independence is the glory of its banks. There, the l.^^amly ot its Austrian masters first begot the re- solution to oppose it; there, many fierce struggles or freedom took place ; and there, were performed the valiant deeds of the patriot Tell. Much is said about the danger of the navigation of the Lake of Lucerne ; but I could not learn that accidents were rcjucnt. It is generally said, that the banks of tlie Lake of Uri are so preci])itous that a boat can nowhere put to shore, and, consequently, that the danger is imminent, should a storm overtake a boat in that reach ; but this is not strictly true. The banks are indeed precipitous, and in many places the rocks dip perpendicularly into the water ; but thei-e is nowhere so great a cr.ntinuity of {)erpendi- cular rock as to render a lauding iinpossible ; and where rocks seem at a distance to be perpendicular and inaccessible, you often find, upon approaching them, that a footing is not altogether hopeless. I had engaged tlie boat from Fluelen, not to take me to Lucerne, but to the little village of Brunnen, which lies on the right bank of the lake in sailing upwards, and just opposite to the entrance of the Uri branch. It was not for the purpose of seeing Brunnen that I landed there, but because I in- tended going from Brunnen to Schwytz, and to Goldau. Even in this little village, I f<)und an inn which brought no discredit upon the character of the inns of Switzerland ; and, after an excellent breakfast, I set out for Schw^-tz. The walk between Brunnen and Schwytz is sin- gularly beautiful. At Brunnen, the lake recedes, and the shore, no longer precipitous, slopes gently back to Schwytz, covered with fertility, and full of beauty. This is the finest part of the Canton of Schwytz ; for excepting a small part which lies to- wards the Lake of Zurich, it is covered with sterile mountains, and intersected by valleys, by no means remarkable for their fertility ; but thereis no trace of sterility in approaching 'Schwytz, which stands most imposingly upon the upper part of the slope — a garden around it, and the red rocky summit of Mount Mythen towering above it. Tin's pyraraidi- cal mount presented a very singular appearance as I approached Schwytz ; a'thick mist extended lon- gitudinally along the sky, cutting this mountain in two ; and above it, as if floating upon the sea of vapour, stood the red peak of Mount Mythen, bathed in sunbeams. I found nothing to detain me long in the town of Schwytz, whose chief attraction lies in the singular beauty of its situation ; but as it was then too warm t<) continue my walk to Goldau, I remained at Schwytz till dinner-time, passing the interval very uni)rofitably, though very agreeably. I found a sloping orchard, where 1 lay dreaming away an hour or two : a very large pear-tree spread its shade above ; and 1 had only to walk a few yards, if I wished to cool my lips with the delicious' cher- ries that coloured one-half of the orchard. I re- turned to the inn at half-past one, where I found a most admirable dinner, and two agreeable com- panions. It may not be a piece of information altogether useless, if I tell the reader, that, being much pleased with the dinner, and with the appear- ance of every thing I saw, I asked the landlord upon what terms he would furnish board and lodg- ing—dining every day as well as I had dined that day, and including breakfast, coffee or tea in the evening, and a comfortable chamber ? The answer was, four francs — the sum which one often pays for dinner alone, if no bargain has been made. I left Schwytz in the afternoon to walk to Lauertz, and to the spot where Goldau teas. The valley of Lauertz is very charming ; and, after a pleasant walk, I reached the brink of the lake. It was a tranquil and beautiful scene, such as all the valley had often exhibited before the awful catastrophe that covered it with desolation. A few cattle were D 2 'Mi LUCERNE. [chap. XII. standing: in the water. A little island, and the ruins of some <.ld eaHtle tliut once bad en)\vn.n a low promontory, 1 contunied my walk, and about sunset reached a little inn which stands upon the site of the buried (loldau. All aroun.l is ruin still ; and doubtl. ss many a-'s must yet elapse, belnre the aspect of ruin can b. tliaiij^ed to fertility. Were it not that a scanty vegetation has sprung up amid desolation, one might believe the event' to l)e of yesterday, for the enormous mass<'s of rock lie as they ha%e fallen : and how shall this ever be otherwise i Rocks withstand tlu' intiuence of time ; and man is too insignificant a cri'ature to cope with eve'i thv f'lffrii mountains. ^ 1 have no doubt that most readere know the his- tory of this catastrophe. Those who do, may pa.ss over a page or two ; for I think it would be inex- cusable were I to make no mention of an event so calamitous as the destruction of Goldau. It is from the little wt)rk of Doctor Zay that 1 abridge the few following details. Tlie Rossberg, a mountain three or four tlunmund feet high, stood, before this catastro|.he, behind the village'of (ioldau. The summer had been unusually rainy ; and the formation of several wide crevices in tiie mountain, though they alanned the indivi- duals who (liscovrreil tiu^m, wtre mdortmiately not sufficient to rouse the inhabitants of the valley to a sense of their danger. In the early part of the eventful day, subterraneous noises were heard ; and several large st(»nes broke from the mountain side, as if acted upon by some interior force. About three in the afternoon, the awful event took place ; the mountain was rent in twain, and in a thousand ponderous fragments preci})itated itself upon the valley below. (Joldau, liauert/, and two other vil- lages, were whelmed in its ruins. Cottages and chalets, flocks and shepherds, were carried with the falling ma.ss ; and one of the most smiling among the valleys of Switzerland was made desolate and a gi-ave. There are many most affecting little histories connected with this event. The most calamitous of these is, perhaps, the history of a party of plea- sure, that had made an excursion from Berne to ascend the Rigi. The i)arty consisted of eleven pei*sons, and, among these, were a new-married couple, M. de Diesbach and his bride. Four only of tlie eleven persons were saved ; and among those who perished was the wife of M. de Diesbach. Be- neath these masses their bodies still lie buried ; and the rocks that are piled above, are a sufficient record of their history. There are also recorded some extraordinary escapes, particularly those of a nurse and a child, buried all night among the rocks, but uninjured ; — of another woman and her child, cairied in the cabin they inhabited into the valley, and unhurt ; — and of a house and its inhabitants swept into the lake, but saved, owing to the upper story, which was of wood, detaching itself from the rest of the building, and swimming, till a boat relieved its in- mates. Four hundred and fifty persons perished. The wrecks of the mountain covered a scjuare league, the value of which was estimated at about 125,000/. A hundred and eleven houses were buried, besides several churches and chapels. Several hundred head of cattle were destroyed, and a great loss to the omimutn was sustained, from the anndulation of the vast ext.'Ut of tine pasturage that lay upon the sides of the liossberg. Such are a few of the pnn- cipal facts connected with the fall of the Rossberg. The catastrophe has been attributed to different caus«'s ; but, like most of the great natural pheno- mena, the remote cause is hidden. W e may go a few steps back; but they are only steps ; we at length, sooner or later, reach a point beyond which all is obscurity. The fall of the Rossberg was doubtless occasioned by some internal convulsion ; but the cause of that convulsion can never be any thing else than matter of ingenious dispute. It was nearlv dark when I left this scene of deso- lation. But a few years ago, and the sun had set upon a smiling valley ; a hundred habitations had been gilded by its beams ; and those who now lay mouldering beneath these mighty ruins, had sat by their cottage doors, and amid their smiling families, the evening before the world closed upon them. They talked of the morrow, and the day after, as days that would surely come. They came, mde^d, but destruction came with them. Some of those who perished must have found a slow and t.rrible death. Several were discovered near the surface of the ruins, enclosed among the rocks, an.l living ; and doubtless there were others who found themselves in a living tomb, far beneath the surface of the wrecks, and far beyond the reach of help. Let us hope that their number was TOW It was cpiite dark when I reached Schwytz, and iKwt morning I returned to Brunnen to breakfast, and hnmediately afterwards continued my voyage towards Lucerne. The boat kept close to the riglit side of the lake, which, in the second reach, is i mucii the more beautiful side of the bank : although in many places very steej), it is mostly covered with the riciiest verdure, and is vvell clothed with beech, ash, hazel, and oak. Hay-harvest was still going on upon the steeps ; and the groui)s of pei-sons upon the green slopes, j)ausing from their labour, and leaiung upon tlieir rakes, as we passed below, added much to the interest of the landscape. This reach of the lake appears to be terminated by Mount I'ilate, whose pointed summits form a magnificent back-ground. Gersau, a little village close to the water, lies charmingly. It stands upon a low plat- form of the brightest grass, level with the lake, about a quarter of a mile Sfjuare, and bounded on the other three sides with lofty mountains. Its white houses lie along the margin of the water, every one with its garden, and every garden full ol white lilies. I thought I liad seldom seen a spot of sweeter seclusion. The history of Gersau is curious. Before the revolution it was a republic, s(>parate and indepen- dent, and was certainly the least state in the world. Its territory was not two miles square, and it con- tained about two hundred houses, and twelve hun- dred inliabitants. An attempt wjus made in 1814 to revive the republic, but it of course failed. I wished to have landed at Gersau ; but the boatmen, apprehending a stonn, said we had no time to lost', if I wished to reached Lucerne before it commenced ; and the event proved the correct- ness of their judgment. The lake, at this time, was a sheet of glass ; not the smallest breath of air could be felt ; but the sun shone as if through a veil ; and there was that oppressive feeling iu the CHAP. XII.] LUCERNE. 37 atmosphere that always indicates a change. The entrance into the lowest reach of the lake is ex- tremely narrow. A new scene then opens, soft and beautiful, excepting in the direction of Mount Pilate, whose bald summits still rise to the left. Before travelling into Switzerland, or, at all events, soon after arriving in it, every one heai^ of the RujL " Have you been up the Rigi ? " is the universal question ; " You must be sure to ascend the Rigi,'' the universal injunction. I knew that the Rigi lay close to the Lake of Lucerne, and to- wards its northern extremity ; and, full of expec- tation, I requested the boatmen to point out the Rigi the moment we should come in sight of it. " Voila le Rigi," said the only one of the boatmen who spoke French ; and I saw before me a low, clumsily-shaped hill, green to the summit, and over- topped by many othera of the mountams. The Rigi is, in fact, scarcely higher than several of our British mountains, and is only remarkable l)y its position, and on account of the magnificent prospect enjoyed from its summit. The finest views are not from the highest mountains. An extensive, and a beautiful view, are totally different things ; and of this distinction, a better illustration cannot be found, than in the relative interest of the prospect en- joyed from the summits of the Rigi, and of Mount "Pi'late. The boatmen made every exertion to reach Lu- cerne before the storm began, not probably from any apprehension of danger, but afraid lest a heavy gale should set in ahead, when they would require to labour harder and longer. About a league before reaching Lucerne, hov^ever, the stonn burst over us, the slieet of gl.ass was changed into a little angry sea covered with foam, and all the moun- tains were in a moment shrouded. But we were already almost sheltered by the land ; and another hour's hard tugging brought us into the basin. The situation of Lucerne is more beautiful than striking. Upon the whole it disappointed me at first, because the bt-auty of its environs is scarcely seen in approaching it from the lake ; and I missed those stupendous mountains among which I had thought to have found it. In fact. Lucerne does not lie in a mountainous country, although the mountains approach near to it ; but it lies in a highly fertile and eminently beautiful country, such as no other town in Switzerland can boast, except- ing Zurich. I took an evening stroll through the street, after the heavy rain w liicli followed the storm that had subsided, and found mvself accidentallv uj)on one of the bridges. The rapidity of the Reuss as it leaves the lake is astonishing, and the clearness of its water no less so. All the rivers which empty themselves into the Swiss lakes — the Rhone, the Rhine, the Reuss, the Aar, the Limmat — enter the respective lakes less or more discoloured : but all of them leave the lakes perfectly timnsparent, though not all of precisely the same hue. The Reuss, in leaving the lake of Lucerne, is of a light green, almost approaching limpidity ; the Rhine, in leaving the lake of Constance, is of a darker green ; the Rhone, in leaving the lake of Geneva, bears a deep blue tint ; while the Aar and the Limmat, as they How out of the lakes of Thun and Zurich, are almost entirely colourless. The day after I arrived in Lucerne, the weekly corn-market was held. It is one of the largest in Switzerland, because it is meant for the supply, not of Lucerne only, but of the Cantons of Unterwaldeii and Uri, neither of which grow almost any grain ; and Lucerne is the only place from which the inha- bitants can supply their wants. Numerous boats from Fluelen, and from the villages lying on the LTnterwalden side, arrived during the morning ; and the market was a busy and very abundant one. There was a large supply of rye and of wheat, and a little oats and barley. The price of wheat, re- duced into f^nglish money and measure, was ,'i(>s., the price of rye 14s. per quarter. The growth of grain in the Canton of Lucerne is not sufficient to supply those other Cantons of Uri and L; nterwalden. Lucerne grows scarcely more than suffices for its own demand. The greater part of the grain tliat comes into the market at Lucerne, is from the Canton of Argovie, which is the granary of Swit- zerland. From the corn-market I walked into the other markets. The vegetable-market I found very abundantly supplied, and very picturesque, owing to the great variety of the women's dresses. A stran- ger ought never to omit visiting the vegetable-market in every town, because he may always gather, from what he sees there, a tolerable idea of the female peasantry, both as to dress and personal aj)pear- ance. Here I found nothing to admire in the latter ; and could only regret, that dresses so well calcula- ted to set off a pretty face, were employed to so little purpose. The meat-market I found clean and orderlv, and the meat, although not in great varietv, seemed good. I found prices to be as follows : — beef S^d., other kinds of meat lid., butter 7id., eggs 4d. a dozen, a good fowl 8d. Bread, I afterwards found to be l^d. per lb. Vegetables and fruit are alwavs al)undant and reasonable. No wine is irrown in thi^ cantcm. The inhabitants drink either the wine of Neufchatel, or of the Bays de Vaud. The former costs, in an inn, a franc per bottle, the latter fifteen sous. In walking through tlio streets of Lucerne, the stranger does not find much to attract him, unless he be so interested in Swiss history as to be arrested by the j)ictures on the old bridge, where all the im- portant events in Helvetian history are faithfully represented in oil-colours, doubtless tending to keep alive, among the youth of Lucerne, a knowledge of Swiss independence, and a regard for its preserva- tion. But Lucerne, although not pixjlific in those external attractions which catch the eve (»f a sti'an- ger, is possessed of many recommendations of ano- ther kind. The institutions for the intellectual and moral improvement of its inhabitants, are upon a scale of great liberality. Of these, 1 will mention only one — the great public school. Into this school, every child until the age of twelve is admitted, upon payment of six francs per annum, and is taught reading, writing, arithmetic, and the first princijiles of Latin ; and this privilege of ac(iuiring, in early years, the rudiments of learning, is not confined to the city of Lucerne, nor even to the canton ; per- sons may claim admittance from any other of the Swiss cantons, and even from foreign countries. But the privilege I have mentioned is followed by another still greater. The college and the school are one establishment ; and every one who has re- ceived his education in the school, is immediately received as a pupil of the college, and pays nothing for his instruction there. He is taught Latin, Greek, Mathematics, Theology, Painting and Music. •AH LUCERNE. [CUAP. XII. The French lanL^uairc is also tauuht ; hut this costs six francs per aiuiuin — a tritliiij,' sum indeed, liut neverthelcHS justilyin^' the strange conclusion, that painting and music are looked upon as more indis- pensahle branches of education than I'rench. The original fund for this e^.tal)lishnirut amounted to 400,0(M> francs, but has .suhse(iuently been greatly- increased by donations. With such an establish- ment as this, the Canton of Lucerne ought to be more enlightened than it is. The state of morals iu Lucerne, I have reason to think, are not remarkably pure — less so than in most of the other Swiss cities, I visited the gaol, and found in it foi-ty men, and the same number of women — twenty-six of the latter for repeated viola- tions of chastity. The magistrates of Lucerne guard well the morals of the inhabitants ; for there, as in Zuricli, dancing is forbidden, excepting during the last threi.' days of the carnival, and any two other days that may be selected. At marriages, however, the strictness of the law is relaxed, and permission may, upon such occasions, be easily obtained from the magistracy. 1 did not expect to find any limitation upon dancing in a catholic canton ; for, throughout catholic Europe, dancing forms the chief reci'eation i>f the inhabitants. There is one well-known object of curiosity in the neighbourhood of Lucerne — the monument erected to the memory of the Swiss guards who fell in de- fending the Tuileries on the 10th of August, 1792. Will some })atriotic Swiss erect another momunent to their countrymen, who fell in the second revolu- tion of IH'M) i The revolution of 171)2 was as ne- cessary as the revolution of IH'M) ; and although Louis was a better king than Charles, the Swiss are of a monument in the one the other, liut it is of the monument survivors of the Swiss guard, and of course related to me, as I suppose he does to every one else, the history of his dangei-s and escape. He is a fine old man, and ceitainly adds to the interest of the lion he shows. The same morning 1 mad. a more complete tour of the city, passing along all the four bridges, and looking into the churches and the shop-windows. One of the bridges is of extraordinary length ; it crosses the river near its outlet from the lake, and is no less than 1370 feet long. Upon this bridge are a vast number of paintings from Scripture his- tory ; and 1 noticed that a greater number of per- sons were attracted by these, than by the represen- tations of Swiss history on the other bridge. There are still two more bridges ; one uncovered, and very ancient, and the other adorned with pictures from Holbein's Dance of Death. I omitted to say, when speaking of the bridge consecrated to Swiss history, that near the centre is an ancient tower called the Water-tower, probably used as a prison in former times, though some say it was used as a watch-tower. If one should happen to be in the neighbourhood of the churches in Lucerne, it may be worth while to walk in. In the cathedral there is a i)icture l)y Lanfranc ; and 1 was particularly struck with the size of the organ. It contains nearly 3000 i»ii>es, some of them thirty-seven feet high, and cannot, I think, be much inferior hi magnitude to the cele- brated organ of Uaerlem. While 1 stood admiring the «>rgan, an old man accosted me, asking it i would like to see the relics ; " nous arons la plus belle collection dii momk^' siiid he, and 1 willingly acceded perliaps as deservmg case as in to the i>roposal. The richest jtarts of the collection are the bones of saints ; but if my little anatomical knowledge does not greatly deceive me, 1 took up been martyrs and saints among the brute creation. My conductor, to whom 1 expressed this opinion in as^ delicate terms as possible, only grinned at me a smile of susj)icion of my orthodoxy, and passed on to a fragment of the true cross. There are some delightful promenades in the neighbourhood of Lucerne, to which accident con- ducted me in the evening. One of tlu'in, a garden, at a short distance from a gentleman's house, which is situated upon a little eminence. I was jtarticu- larly pleased here with a trifling act of uncalled-for civilitv. At a short distance from the house, there itself, not of the cause of its erection, that 1 must | some fragments which would itrovi' that there have speak. The monument is to be found in the garden of general Pfyfi'er, a name well known throughout Switzerland ; it is hewn out of a solid rock, and re- presents a lion dying, wounded by an arrow, and seeming, even in the agonies of death, to j»rotect the d' ur-i/c-lis. The lion is tweiitv-ei'rht feet in length, and is eighteen feet high ; and the execution is deserving of every commendation. The idea was proposed to Thorwaldsen by a i)ei'son sent to Rome for the purpose by general Pfytfer, and with some little variations Thorwaldsen adopted the original design,and executed a model accordingly, which was brought to Switzerland, and intrusted to M. Aliorn, ' is a jt-t of very clear water which falls into a -^"I'llj a sculptor of Constance, by whom the work was completed. He laljoured at it eighteen months, ami received 50,000 francs (2000/. sterUng). Many objections have been made to this monument. 1 pass over those oti'ered by such as condemn the cause of its erection, and who so admire the principle of the French revolution, that they cannot i)erceive any beauty in a work intended to commemorate resistance to it. Others say, the idea of the monu- ment is not sufficiently national ; but the j)rincipal objections are those which deny the originality of the desitrn. They say, that two monuments of a similar design are to be found elsewhere ; one at Strasbourg, the monunu'nt of marshal Saxe ; and the other at Vienna, in both of which, the union of strength and death is represented by a lion ; but whatever may be said of the desiirn, 1 believe no one objects to the exeeution. design, 1 The old soldier who marble basin. The evening was warm, and 1 lifted a little water in my hand to my lips. A minute or two afterwards, a girl came running from the house, and presented me with a glass upon a silver salver. In the course of my walk 1 passed two convents, both of the Capuchin order ; one for men, the other for women. The latter is as rich as the other is poor ; and to the sistei-s, accordingly, the poor trial's are indebted for whatever little comforts the rules of their order pennit them to enjoy. Lucerne is one of the most important of the Swiss cantons, not only as being one of the largest and the most fertile, but as sharing the pri-sidency of the diet with Berne and Zurich, and as being the chief of the catholic cantons. Spain had for- merly an ambassador at Lucerne, and the pope's nuncio is still resident in the city. The canton produces a little more than it consumes, but how showed me the monument, was himself one of the | much more would it produce, were industry as I CHAP. XIII.J BERNE. 39 active within it as in the Cantons of Berne and Zurich ? A great part of Lucerne is covered with the finest soil ; and 1 have never any where seen more abundant crops than are produced in those parts, where time and industry are bestowed upon the land. In no part of Switzerland might the in- habitants be more at their ease than in this canton ; and yet there is not a commune in which paupers are not to be found. There are no direct taxes in I tlie canton ; but every inhabitant of the city pays six francs per annum, without distinction of for- tune ; and there is also a small tax levied for the maintenance of a police. The canton is not so purely a republic as some of the other cantons. The city has the right of returning one-half of the members of the supreme council ; and tliese members enjoy their dignity for life. The clergy in this canton are numei-ous. There are no fewer than HI resident in the capi- tal, which is nearly two to every hundred inha- bitants. Whilst I remained in Lucerne, the weather was unfavourable for the ascent of the mountains. Mists were constantly hovering over them, and often ob- scuring their summits ; but I resolved to make an attempt. My choice was divided between Mount Pilate and the Rigi ; but as the weather cleared up considerably the second day of my stay in Lucerne, 1 resolved to attempt the ascent of Mount Pilate, because the Rigi being greatly lower, I might more probably find an<»tlier oi>p(ntunity of ascending it. 1 may be allowed to say a few words of my attempt, although it proved unsuccessful. I left Lucerne about\threi' in the afternoon, with an active anil very intelligent guide, and passed through a very charming country between Lucerne and the base of the mountain. The lower part of the mountain is finely wooded, and the ascent to the pasturages is not at all fatiguing. These stretch to a very considerable elevation, and I found them covered with cattle. After about an hour and a half easy walking, 1 gained a ridge, from which the path descended rapitlly into an alpine valley called Eigenthal, Traversing this, it mounts again, still passing through continued j)asturage, and getting constantly steeper ; and about half-past seven, or a little later, I gained the Jiriindlenalpe, where I pur]>osed sleeping. At this time, the different summits of the mountain were entirely free from clouds ; and 1 could not but regret that the evening was too far advanced to justify me in attempting the ascent. I slept in a chalet in the Briindle- nalpe, and slept well ; but it was a sad dLsappoint- nient, when, upon hooking out early next morning, I saw nothing beyond the elevation where I stood ; especially as my guide had been quite confident in his anticipations of a serene morning. I waited two or three hours, in hopes that the sunshine might break through, and disjierse the mists ; but the expecta- tion was vain ; the clouds became more dense, rol- ling down the valleys ; and below, as well as above nie, the mountain was soon entirely shrouded. I turned towards Lucerne very reluctantly, and reached the hotel about mid-day. Mount Pilate is, on many accounts, an interest- ing mountain. Its very appearance creates an in- terest ; for the form of its three highest peaks is singularly striking ; and, rising immediately from the lake to the height of more than 7000 feet, it presents a grand, and seemingly a very elevated front. It was upon this mountain that, many years ago, a great and useful work was constructed, for the purpose of facilitating the descent of timber. It was a kind of groove, no less than 40,000 feet (nearly eight miles) in length ; — a most gigantic work, and worthy of a more endurijig fate. A trunk of a tree, ninety feet long, and two feet in diameter, committed to this groove, accomplished its journey in the inconceivably short space of two minutes and a half. Compared with this, what are the move- ments of the locomotive steam-engines ? This work was destroyed in 1819.* There is a tradition connected witli tliis mountain, which I must not omit noticing. There is a small lake, very high up in the mountain, into which Pontius Pilate, stung with remoree, is said to have plunged ; and this event, in the popular belief of bygone days, was of course looked upon as the cause of all the storms that assailed the mountain, and of every misfortune that befel those who lived within its precincts. The superstition, 1 believe, has passed away ; but that it did exist to a surprising extent is certain. There are two caverns or grottos near the Briindlenalpe, said to be of vast extent ; but, for my part, I always refuse to visit grottos, which I have never found to repay the traveller for his trouble ; and the entrance to those on Mount Pilate being dangerous as well as troublesome, I declined listening to the importunities of my guide. CHAPTER XIII. BERNE. Journey from Lucerne to Berne— The Zempeacher-Zce— Appearance of Berne — Preparations for Opening: the Diet —Arrival of the Deputies— The Platform of the Cathedral, and view of the Oberland Bernois— The Markets and Prices of Provisions— Berne as a Residence— Sunday in Berne— St. Christophe— The Tirage Federal— Crime and Punishment — Anecdote — The Opening of the Diet — Ho- nours rendered to Ladies — Details respecting the Opening Ceremonies — Public Opinion and Political Party in Swit- zerland. The Rigi continued enveloped in clouds ; and I did not remain at Lucerne till they were dissipated. I therefore missed the panorama of the Rigi, which all the world agrees is worth seeing, and left Lu- cerne en Toiture for Berne. Pedestrianism is agreeable in mountainous countries only ; and as this is not the character of the country from Lu- cerne to Berne, I changed for a while my travelling character. Nothing can be more beautiful than the environs of Lucerne, on the side of Berne. The Reuss flows in a fine broad rapid stream, close to the road ; while, on the other side, the most inviting slopes re- deem the country from the character of tameness. Gardens and orchards lie along the other side of the river, and neat country-houses give animation to the landscape. This part of Switzerland strongly re- minded me of some parts of the county of Worcester. The lake of Serapach, or the Zempeacher-Zee, is not much heard of ; and yet,if one arrived upon its banks without having previously seen any of those other lakes which are surrounded by more majestic scenery, the lake of Sempach would be called beau- tiful. I journeyed along its banks just before sun- • See Appendix. 40 BERNE. [chap. xiii. set, and was greativ .K4i-htcd with the gvutlv scenes that lav near it. The lulls HmToun.lini; it do not rise more than a thousand feet above its level, and are cov(U'ed with meadows and woods ; and not fewer than six or ei.L^ht vilhiges are scattered along the mar<,dn of the water. A ehang<' in scenery, as in almost any thin-,' else, is pleasing' ; and, glorious as is the scenery of the mountains, tiie mmd expe- riences an agreeable emotion, when, after a long journey amid the sublime objects tluy disclose, we descend into the fertile plain. Excitement may be too intense to be long sustained without pain ; and this is the secret of the pleasurable emotion we ex- perience. The quieter and tamer beauties of tlie plain are f.lt to be a relief, and bring repose to the over-wrought feelings. After leaving the Zerapeacher-Zee, I contmued to pass through much the same kind of country, and stopped at a place I thiid< called Ca stein, for tlie ni'dit. la this neighliourhood 1 ninarked the most luxuriant crops, and the most neglected land, side by side. The cause was worth inquiring into ; and the explanation was such as I expected, but much regretted to learn. This part of the canton borders upon that of iUrne. The proprietors are some of them catholics, s«mie protestants. So far the enigma is unexplained, lint, uidVyrtunately, there is no part of Switzerland wliere the consciences of the inha- bitants are so tender as here, nor any ]>art where this tenderness is so much encouraged. 1 u the vil- lage I allude to the bell rings for prayers at five. The chuivh is not close to the village, so tliat dress- iiiLT, going to church, the observances when there, n Uirning, undressing, and breakfasting, occupy the entire morning ; and the same observances at two in the afternoon, occupy other two liours. If we allow, as an average, twelve hours for labour, and say that four hours are occupied in the manner 1 have mentioned — and this is the very least that can be allowed— oiie-thinl more labour is bestowed upon the land belonging to the protestants, than that belonging to the catholics ; and if to these hours we add twenty-two holidays, we have a still more satisfactory explanation of the enigma 1 have mentioned. That part of the Canton of Berne which lies be- tween its metropolis and Lucexne, is a rich and well- enclosed country, fertile in every kind (d' grain, and abounding in luxuriant meadows ; anout Berne, the bustle which, upon ent<'ring the town, struck me as being so different from any of the other Swiss towns, 1 found was owing to a spe- cific cause : the diet was about to assemble, and this of course created a great intiux of company. Scarcely ten minutes elai)sed without an arrival : but the most amusing of these was the arrival of the deputies themselves. The carriage in which sat each deputy, generally in solitary state, was pre- ceded by an official person on horseback, himself and the hinder part of his horse covered with an enormous mantle, one lialf of it of one colour, and the other half of another. Nothing can be more fantastic than the appearance of these men. One side of tlieir mantles of fiaming red perhaps, the other bright yellow, or white, or any other colour in perfect contrast with it ; and each had a great cocked hat on his head, and an enormous sword by his side. These are the colours of the canton ; but why two colours should be necessary, I could learn no farther, than tliat such is the will of the council. It was amusing enough to observe the contrast in the entree of the different deputies. You hear the (juick pace of a hoi-se, and mounted upon it is the official in his mantle ; but the mantle is new, the colours bright, the feather in the cocked hat full and unsullied, and the horse that has the honour to carry all this, handsome and handsomely capa- risoned ; then is heard an extraordinary cracking of whips, and four or five well-conditioned horses, guided by a smart jtostilion, are seen trotting quickly along, and a hand.some, new-painted, and somew hat gaudy carriage beliind, in which sits the deputy. This is doubtless the deputy of Zurich, or Basle, or St. Gall. Now for the contrast. You hear the stumbling pace of a hack, and mounted upon it is also the otticial in his mantle ; but the mantle is old, the colours faded, the feather in the cocked hat meagre and tarnished ; and the horse below beai-s its honoui-s meekly, its head looks earthward, and its trappings are evidently n commended by long service. Then one or two' feeble cracks are heard, just loud enough to aciig fJay. There was no procession ; thev went Ihe next place I visited was the market ; and, in singly, each on foot, in full black dress, with'sword going towards it, 1 could not but again remark the spacious streets and excellent houses of the Swiss metropolis. I do not recollect many streets in England superior to the Gnnidf liu<- of Berne. The houses are lofty, handsome, and built of stone ; the street wide, long, and adorned with many fountains ; and an arcade runs along each side, oflering shelter Irom the rain, and shade from the sun. I never saw any where (excepting at Thoulouse) a more and cocked hat, and preceded by his official in his mantle. A small guard of soldiers was drawn up before the Hotel de Ville ; and, as each deputy l)assed by, he was received with the roll of a druni, and with presented arais. A good many people were assembled to see their representatives pass by. Every one took ofl" his hat, but indeed it would have been positive rudeness to have done otherwise, as the deputies themselves walked uncovered. They ' I, \h 42 BERNE. [CHAP. XIII. were in general rcHpectablc-looking men ; am! were all (lr<'srt»'(l alike, «'\ce|itiiig two, who won- hoot-^. I sliuuld lliiuk shoes and silk btockiii<^H are unkiiuwa in some of the cantons. In the evening I walked into the environs. Passim; throutih one of tlie gates, I remarked an (»ld tuwtr and a colossal statue placed in a niche. This statue is eonnuonly called Goliath, but in former times had the honour of being a saint, and even earned the reputation of performing miracles. He was then called St. Christo{)lie, and had a niche in the church of St. Vincent ; but since he has been placed uj)ou the tower, his character has been changed irom a saint to that of a warrior. He has now an axe over liis shoulder, and a sword in liis hand. 1 had almost forgotten to say, that when St. Christophe occupied his original place in the church, his situation was most convenient for those who desired to profit by his miracle-working power. It was only necessary to })ass between his iegs. I noticed also, in passing along the streets, several fountains constructed upon strange and inexplicable designs. Upon ()no of them is a statue of a gigan- tic pereon, whose face expresses any thing but can- nibalism, busily employed in devouring a child. I observed in the fosse, near the Port d'Arberg, some enormously larijc^ bears — one weighing, as I was told, oiii) lbs. lieai"s are more a propos here than any where else, because the bear is the arms of the city, and is impressed upon the coin of the canton. The principal object of my walk was to see the preparations for the Tirarfe Federal. The Tira(^e Federal may be called a national institution. Its object is to keep alive a martial spirit among the people, and at the same time to teach expertness in the use of fire-arms. This assembly is held yearly, and takes place alternately at Berne, Ge- neva, Aarau, Basil, and Fribourg. No one can enter the lists who has not resided ten yeai*s in Switzerland ; and w ith this single restriction, all are permitted to try their skill. The prizes distri- buted vary from 100 to 1000 francs. These are l)artly paid ])y grants from the different cantons, and partly from the fees which every candidate pays upon entering his name. The fee is but tri- fling — five or ten francs ; but I forget which. I confess I did not exjx'ct to find tlie i)reparations for this fit,', as it may b*- called, so extensive, or so much importance attached to it. I found a woodtMi l)uilding erected of very large dimensions, rather more than five hundred yards long, a hun- dred and fifty yards wide, and the roof innuensely lofty. This building is divided into compartments, from the front of which the candidates fire ; and in the middle is an elevated place for the iudges. Opposite to this building, at two hinulred yards distance, are placed the targets, which extend in line the same length as the building ; and behind the first-mentioned building is another, of priH'isely similar dimensions, where innumerable tables are laid out, and benches placed, for the refreshment of the company. I found the field covered with people, all contemplating, with the greatest interest, the preparations for this favourite national trial ; and, in a meadow at a little distance by the river- side, many of the young men of Berne were j)rac- tising for the approaching Tir,ion following up his triumph, he then addressed the gentleman in tolerably good English, saying, he was always glad to meet with foreigners, that by talking t»» them in their own language, he might improve his know- ledge of it. I could not but feel for my countryman CHAP. XIII.] BERNE. 4'A all this while, though his egregious folly in taking a title of so much pretension, almost removed him beyond the pale of compassion. He might possibly be entitled to the designation of" Homme de Lettres,'^ though he could i^peak no language but his own ; but it was extremely unwise to designate himself so, unless he possessed the power of proving his pretensions. The Russians are distinguished, beyond the natives of all other countries, for the facility with which they acquire languages ; and it was certainly a remarkable piece of ill-fortune, that the man of letters should have fallen so inoppor- tunely into the hands of a Russian. Next morning, I was awoke at an early hour by the commotion in the street. Bells were ringing, drums were beating, and carriages rolling, at the early hour of six o'clock. The first part of the ceremony of opening the diet, consists m the depu- ties assembling at church, to attend divine woi'ship. They repaired to it one by one, the same as the evening before ; and although they entered the house of God, honour was paid, in entering, to the representatives of the people. A guard was drawn up on each side of the porch, and colom's were lowered, and arms presented, as each deputy passed by. The church was extremely crowded ; but I contrived to get near the preacher, who delivered a very well-arranged, very long, and rather energetic sermon, upon the duties of representatives and law- givers. I left the cathedral before the ceremony was concluded, that I might obtain a place in the other church, where the remainder of the ceremo- nies was to tiike place. I found the streets lined with a very motley description of soldiei-s — some in one dress, some in another, and some without any distinguishing dress at all, and at least one-half of the whole number boys of from twelve to sixteen yeai-s old. The interior of the church was very well arranged. All the pews were removed. A large table was placed at one end ; and four rows of green velvet chairs occupied all the centre, ex- cepting where a passage was left opposite to the table ; and at the other end were arranged thirty or forty ro\\s of benches, one above another, as in the pit of a theatre. When I reached the church, these were entirely filled with ladies in handsome morning dresses ; but thx-ee benches in front were vacant, reserved for the families of the deputies, and perhaps some of the privileged aristoei'acy of Berne. Until the arrival of the deputies, I had nothing to do but scan the company ; and after having run my eye over the thirty or forty benches, 1 was constrained to say, that not one fine counte- nance was to be seen. After several general officei-s, dressed in splendid uniforms and covered with orders, had been ushered in by the othcer in waiting, a roll of a drum was heard at the door, and every one thought the de- puties were coming ; but, behold ! three ladies entered— a deputy's wife and two daughters — who took their seats, with an air of extraordinary im- portance, upon tlie chairs reserved for the j)rivi- leged ; and so they well might ; for to be received with military honours, is a disthiction that I dare to say is not i-endered to ladies hi any other part of the world. A man ami his wife in Berne are truly I noticed that the most strict regard was paid one to i)recedence ; so much so, that two ladies, who had been improperly placed, were obliged to leave their seats, to make way for othci's who possessed a superior right. The clergy and the magistracy arrived next : for the former, two rows of chairs had been prejiared ; and the protestant clergy were placed hi the front row, the catholic behind. * It so happened, that the catholic clergy had arrived first, and had been directed to occupy' the seats reserved for the protestant clergy; and when the latter arrived, the catholic clergy were politely re resjjccts, opjxiscd to eaeli other, and in wliich knowledge and civiiizatiuu liave not made e(iual progress. I intended to have gone, the day after the diet opened, to visit the lake of Bienne, but the badness of the morning prevtMitod nu; ; and the weather continued so unsettled during the greater part of a week, that I still contumed to make Berne my head-quarters. CHAPTER XIV. BERNE — ST. Peter's isle — hofwyl. Reasons for preferring Berne as a Residence — Society of Berne — Public Establishments — Excursion to the Lake of Bienne and Rousseau's Isle — Aarberg — The Lake — Cha- racter of St. Peter's Isle— Reflections— Return to Berne- Excursion to Hofwyl — Details respecting the Establish- ment — Canton of Berne. If I were to make choice of a Swiss city for a resi- dence, it should certainly be Berne ; chiefly because I prefer the character of the inhabitants, and the usages of the city, to the character and usages of other towns, annted — could not but recall to inv mmd the half-starved ]»o[)ulation of the grtat manufac- turing cities of En<^land and France, and almost begot a dou])t in my mind whetlu-r England be in reality the happi(\st country in the worhl. I also visited every part of the environs, parti- cularly one promenade, called VKthjif, whose only fault is, that it lies about a mile from the city. It is a most charming walk, b(>autiful on every side, and commanding a vast anq»hitheatre, the sublime s]>ectacle of the highest range of alps. The Schreekhorn, the Monk, the Silver-horn, the Wet- ter-horn, the Jungfrau, and Mount Eiger, occupy the centre of the range — names that one has heard a hundred time-s, and that are associated in the mind with all that is sublime in the natural world. I always found that promenade crowdi-d, es])ecially in the evenin«r. It is the favourite rendezvous of the Bernois, and, like the platform of the cathedral, it aff'ords a union of pleasures. A second visit to the cathedral showed me the CHAP. XiV.] BERNE. 45 Last Judgment, carved in wood above the gate — a work reflecting credit u})on the age in which it was executed. A model of the tower, not as it is, but as it was once intended to be, was shown to me. The reason why it was not completed according to the original model, is said to have been owing to the insecurity of tlie foundation. Having entirely satisfied my curiosity at Berne, and the weather having cleared uj), I left it at day- break in a cabriolet, to visit the Lake of Bienne, and the Isle of St. Peter, commonly called Rous- .seau's Isle. In every direction around Berne, proofs are abundant of the great industry of the Bernoise peasantry, and of the easy and comfort- able condition in which they live. I every where saw a fertile soil about to rej>ay well the toil of the labourer. Every cottage appeared substantial ; and the little garden attached to it, carefully dressed and neatly arranged. But one has not the satisfac- tion of knowing, in passing through this canton, that the labourer is lord of the soil he works, and that every seed he throws into the earth will return its produce into his own granary. Much of the land in the central parts of this canton, and especially m the neighbourhood of the capital, belongs to large proprietors — so large at least, that the land is la- itoured by hired servants ; but the condition of every order of society in most parts of Sw itzerland, leaves little for the philanthropist to desire. As one proof that not a foot of ground is lost, I may mention, that I passed several dunghills, upon which tliere grew a luxuriant croj) of salad and cabbages. It may also be worth wliile to say, that these dunghills are formed with as much nicety as hay-stacks in other countries. They are square, level on the top, thatched round with straw, and, unless where they are put to the use of gardens, covered at the top. I breakfasted at Aarberg, a clean little town built upon the banks of the Aar, which almost sur- rounds it. Soon after leaving Aarberg, I reached a spot where formerly stood a village of twenty-eight houses, which were all destroyed a few years ago in a conflagration raised by an inceJidiary. The rea- son of this act is said to have been ill-will, conceived against the diff'erent shopkeepers and other persons, who refused to give him credit. The common law of Switzerland against incendiaries was disaj)pointed in this instance. The incendiary, being pursued, crept into a drain, where he was suffocated. A small monument is erected upon the spot where his house stood, setting forth the crime of its owner, and forbidding that any other dwelling shall be erected upon the same spot. Three hours more brought me to the height above the Lake of Bienne ; and from this spot the view also embraces the Lake of Neufchatel, and the whole range of the Jura mountains. The view of the Lake of Bienne is not striking — scarcely beautiful or picturesque. It is merely pleasing ; — mountains of the fourth or fifth order, covered with wood, and vines, and meadows, surround it, and several villages are scattered at their feet. The chief attraction of the spot lies in the Isle of St. Pierre, and the recollections it recalls of Jean Jacques Rousseau. I hired a boat at the little village nearest to the island, and Sf)on approached its bank ; but, before landing, I made the circuit of it — a voyage of only a mile and a half ; and, although in first looking down upon the Lake of Bienne, I had thought that Rousseau might have chosen a more select retreat, 1 was no longer of this opinion in sailing round the island of his choice. Nothing can be more varied, or of a sweeter or gentler character, than the scenery of this little spot. Steep rocks, sloping meadows, vines, and groves and thickets, are passed by in succession ; and the water being absolutely without a ripple, the boat glided all the way above the grass and groves reflected beneath. I landed close to the house which Rousseau had once inhabited, and where he vainly fancied he had at last found rei>ose from the real and imagined persecutions of man- kind. The house is now used as an \m\. and the room is of course shown, where the " self-torturing sophist" was wont to muse on the ingratitude of his species, and to congratulate himself upon having escaped from the toils of his enemies, and the in- trusions of the impertinent. I walked over every foot of the island ; and I trust it will not be called misplaced enthusiasm, if I confess, that the recollections to which the scene gave birth were mingled with some tenderness for the memoiy of the man who had there dreamed away half a lifetime. Rousseau was in reality a greater, and perhaps a better man than his more fortunate rival ; and although he has left behmd him less voluminous records of his labours than Voltaire, this perhaps is only one proof of his greater genius. The errors of Rousseau are the errors of an excited imagination. He believed that he promulgated truths ; but Voltaire, when he deluged the world with his sophistry, smiled all the while at the credulity of mankind. I cannot help thinking, that the philosophical works of Rousseau are less esteemed than they deserve ; for although the Emi- lius is founded upon a dubious principle, yet it teaches many important truths, and even contains within it some beautiful and highly moral lessons. In wandering over the narrow limits of St. Peter's Isle, one cannot but compassionate the con- dition of the man, whose morbid state of mind drove him into exile ; and yet it would perhaps be wiser to give credence to his own assertion, that the yeai's which he spent in this secluded spot were the hap- piest of his life. Here he felt himself separated from that world, which he believed to be united in a league against him ; and here doubtless he re- velled in those day-dreams, which, to a mind consti- tuted like Rousseau's, were happiness. I returned to the house to dinner, which consisted entirely of country fare, w ith neither kid nor fish added to it ; and in the evening I passed over to the village, and from thence to Bienne, where I spent the night in a verv excellent hm, called La Conronrve. There is nothing very remarkalde about Bienne. It is a pretty clean little town, lying near the lake, and at the foot of the Jura mountains ; and would not per- haps be much visited by the traveller, if it did not lie so near to the scenes which are consecrated to the memory of Rousseau. Next day I returned to Berne by the same road. One other spot remained to be visited ; and to this I dedicated the day before I left Berne for the Oberland — I mean the well-known establishment of M. de Fellenberg, at Hofwyl. Before saying a word respecting the system of education pureued at Hofwyl, or recording my own personal observations, I think it best to state what were the views and objects of M. de Fellenberg in founding this institution ; and I cannot do this more 4G BERNE. [chap. XIV. satisfactorily than in the words of a report pre- sented by the comte de Capo-d'Istria to the em- peror Alexander. It runs thus : — " M de Fellen- berg a acquis aa premiere reputation comnie agronome ; mais son agriculture, et tout le ma- teriel de ses e'tablissemens ((ui s'y rapportent, appartiennent au grand objet de ses travaux et de ses esperances, savoir Ptdnc'itioHy dans Ic sens Ic plus eteiidu qu'on puisse donner a ce mot. " Doue d'une ame active, et d'un esprit reflcfchi, M. de Fellenberg partageait rin([uietude de tons le penseurs sur les circonstances ge'nerales, qui, au commencement de ce siecle, mena^aient les peuples du continent. Pere de deux fils en has age, ami do Thumanite, citoyen d(5voue a son pays, il conside'i-ait avec effroi la situation morale et politi«iue do I'P^u- rope, et I'avenir (jui se prcparait pour ses enfans et sa patrie. En retlechissant sur Tetat de la societc?, il la voyait menacee de la dissolution de ses t^lemens, par I'ouhli de la religion et le mepris de la morale ; par I'inHucnce du despotisme sur les caracteres ; par I'egoisme et lasonsualite' des riches ; par Tigno- rance et les vices grossicrs des pauvres ; par un effet naturel des longues agitations politicpies, et de longues Houffrances qui lorsqu'ellcs ont abouti a la tyrannic ne laissent (]ue decuuragement et lassitude, et persuadent aux faibles, que la vertu nVst qu'une chimere, connne le furent leurs esperances. " Le va'U d'une re'forme fondanieiitale dans les principes et les mcrurs, t'tait certcs, bien naturel dans de telles circonstances ; iiiais comment le for- mer avec quel({ue espoir de succes ? Connnent un individu faible, isole', pouvait-il songer a preparer, encore moijis a realiser, une telle revolution, memo dans I'enceinte reserree d'un cantcm de i'llelvt-rie I M. de Fellenberg n'en desespera pas. II pensa(iue les adoucissemens, et les remcdes aux maux de I'etat social, devaient se trouver dans une education appropriee aux besoins du temps, et a la destina- tion ge'ncrale de chacune des elasses de la societe. II re'solut d'essayer, dans rechelle de ses moyens, de creer un etablissemeut (jui put servir d'exemple, d'acheminement, et de noyau a d'autrcs e'tablisse- mens du meme genre, dans U-squels on pourrait profiterde son experience, cviter ses erreui-s, per- fectionner ses moyens de succes, etencb-e enfin, d<- prochc en proehe, sur son canton, sur touto la Suisse peut-etre, le bienfait d'un<' education regeneratrice des mcx'Ui-s et des caracteres. " TelU' fut son idee fondameutale--tels furent ses V(i'ux et ses esperances. II tit de ragriculture la base de son entreprise. Dans tons les pays eeile occupe la grande pluralitt^ de la population ; par- tout elle est en objet d'interet, d amusement, ou de spe'culation ; partout il importe de la iterfectionner, et de I'ennoblir. Mais M. de Fellenberg considera surtout Pagnculture sous un point de vue }>hiloso- phique et nouveau, c'est-a-dire comme fournissjint, dans son ^tude et sa pratique, de grands moyens de d^veloppement des facultes humaines." The natural in(iuiry is, has M. de Fellenberg's project been successful t If the traveller visit the establishment at Hofwyl, as he would any otheriment, capable, by its result, of intluoneing the happiness of mankind, a more guarded approbation will probably be the re- sult. But I will proct^ed to detail shortlv all that came under my o\\ n observation. Hofwyl seems like a beautiful little town as you approach it ; and yet it consists entirely of the buildings belonging to the establishment, and which have been constructed, one after another, as the views of M. de Fellenberg extended, or as pu])lic aid enabled him to carry them into effect. I found an intelligent young man to carry me over every part of the esta))lishment ; and I will readily admit that I was delighted with every thing, because I looked upon the whole as the pastime of an amiable philosopher. At Hofwyl, there are three cla.sses of students : — tlie pensionnaires of the first class, who are all gentlemen's sons, and who pav a handsome sum for board and instruction ; the se- cond, or middle class, composed of persons who pay less, l)ut whose education is in no respect different from the other class ; and the third class, whose education is gratuitous, and whose labour is consi- dered an e(iuivalent for tlieir board. When I visited Hofwyl, there were about 100 pensionnaires of the tii-st class, thirtv of the second class, and nmety of the third class. The last class was com- posed of Swiss exclusively ; the middle class almost entirely of Swiss ; and the first class of (iermans, English, Russians, French, and Swiss, In this class there was one Spaniard. The instruments of educa- tion employed by M. de Fellenberg are various, and at first sight seem somewhat heterogeneous. There is, 1. A farm, destined to serve as a model of as all that M. de Fellenberg considers useful. It includes reading, writing, arithmetic, a little grammar, a little geo- metry ; a few facts in natural history ; the history of their own country ; drawing, singing, and moral lessons. M. de Fellenberg considei-s nmsie to be an important auxiliary in education. To use his ow n words — " precious, as softening the character, and calming the passions ; fortifying the love of order and of tlie beautiful ; strengthening the bonds that attach man to his countrv,and misiuii his ima- gmation and his wishes towards Heaven." But all these branches of education are made subservient to agricultural education. The manual labour upon CHAP. XV.] THE OBERLAND BERNOIS. 47 the farms is j)erformed by this class chiefly. It is thus they gain their bread and their knowledge in labouring for them ; and besides agricultural edu- cation, every one belonging to this class is taught some trade — either those directly connected with agriculture, as wheelwrights, blacksmiths, &c. — or any other handicraft ; for the establishment com- jtrehends the work-',.()m of the shoemaker, the tailor, &c., who all labour for the establishment. The education of the higher classes is of a differ- ent description. The theory and practice of agri- culture form a ])art of their education also ; but in the school, there are teachei's of every description of knowledge', comprising natural philosojthy, ma- thematics, chemistry, the languages, ancient and modern history, geography, natural history, botany, and a course upon religion and morals. As relax- ations from this, there are music, painting, the gymnastic exercises, gardening, and the more elegant ])arts of mechanics ; and to assist in these relaxations, the establishment comj)rises music- rooms, containing every kind of musical instru- ments ; models for j)ainting ; fire-arms, bows and arrows ; small gardens aj>propriated to individuals ; and work-rooms with im])lements for turning, &c. As tlu! formation of the moral character is one important object in the view of M. de Fellenberg, this lias led to a departure from the ordinary sys- tem j)ursued in schools ; for, wisely judging, that emulation, pushed too far, engenders unamiable feelings, all the usual means of encouragement are rejected. There is neither first nor last — no prizes — no medals — no humiliating })unishments. A well- timed and gentle reproof, or an acknowledgment of duties fulfilled, supply the places of premiums and disgi-ace. The establishment of Hofwyl is complete in all its parts. All that is consumed is produced upon the farms. In the l)yres I found thirty oxen and sixty cows, all in the most excellent condition. There were also twenty liorses of the Mecklenburg breed, for the use of the farais, M, de Fellenberg makes much use of peas-straw for horses' food, and of l)otato-parings for cows. These I saw the cows eat very greedily ; and, judging from the quality of the milk, which I tasted, as well as from its quan- tity, which was very great, I could not avoid the conclusion, that cows thrive upon this aliment, I could easily fill several pages w ith a description of the various dependencies of the establishment — the bake-house, the butchery, the dairy, &:c, 6ce. ; but it is enough to say, that all these are faultless, and that there seems nothing wanting to render the establishment comj)lete. M. de Fellenberg has l)een as successful as any reasonable ])erson believed to be possible. Hi's establishment affords a beautiful example of how- much may be accomplished by the union of pei'se- verance with enthusiasm, when these are directed towards an ol)ject not too extensive for the surreil- lonce of one mind ; but even if this example were thought sufficient to warrant any plan for the ex- tension of the principle, and for the formation of f^iniilar establishments, the proposal must be at oriee met by the (juestion, " Have you other twenty M. de Fellenbergs i " The whole success of an ex- jteriment of this kind depends upon the presiding genius. Esta})lishments, such as those of Hofwyl, "r New Lanark, called into existence by the union "f philanthroj)y and enthusiasm, depend for their continuance upon the life of the architect. It is probable that there are not other twenty M. de Fellenbergs in the whole world ; and if so, it is idle to speak of the establishment as a thing which can at all influence the general and permanent hap- piness of mankind. It is perhaps scarcely fair to consider the opinion of M. de Fellenberg's neighbours, the Bernois, as any evidence against liis system ; but it is right to state the fact, that scarcely any of the pension- naries at Hofwyl are from the neighbouring city of lierne, and that the opinion of the inhabitants is decidedly unfavourable to the establishment. They say the education is superficial ; that too much is attemi)ted ; that no one who has been instructed at Hofwyl has risen to eminence in any department ; and that M. de Fellenberg is so much of a despot within his own establishment, that professors and teachers will not remain ; and that the frequent change in instructors operates injuriously upon the progress of the pupils. Of the truth of these charges I have no way of judging. I state simply w hat I heard many times in Berne. Berne is the largest and the most populous of the Swiss cantons, and perhaps also the richest, though Zurich might possi]>ly dispute this claim. The great- est land-owners of Switzerland reside in this canton ; and for this reason it contains the greatest number of poor. The number receiving pubhc relief is stated at upwards of 20,000, being one in every seventeen, if the population be reckoned at 340,000. The constitution of Berne is oligarchical — certainlv the worst of all the forms of government ; and from all that I could learn, the oligarchy of Berne does not deserve to form an exception. CHAPTER XV. THE OBERLAND BERNOIS. Journey from Berne to Interlaken— Thun and its Lake — Unterseen, and the Plain of Interlaken— Inns and Board- ing Houses — Interlaken as a Residence — Scenerj- — Muta- bilitj- of Fashion — Journey by the Wengern Alp and the Sheideck— Lauterbrunnen and its Valley— The Stubbach —Cheese-making— Mountain Scenery— The Jungfrau- The Silver Horns- The Wetterhorn— Mount Eiger- De- tails respecting the Ascent of the Jungfrau— Night Views —Mountain Legend— Effects of a Glacier— Descent to- wards Grindelwald. Having satisfied my curiosity in Berne, I left that interesting capital 'for Thun, and the Oberland Bernois. Nothing can be more charming than the countrj' between Berne and Thun. It is a constant succes*- sion of meadow and orchard, beautifully diversified with neat cottages and gardens, and presenting all the fertility of a i)lain, without its monotony ; for the surface is broken into hillocks, and every where offers to the eye the most delightful variety that cultivated nature is capable of affording. I noticed, that to every third or fourth house was attached a small manufactory of earthenware. There is a particular kind of earth especially .suited for the purpose, found about three leagues from Thun, which costs only the expense of carriage. The pots made in these parts are held in high estima- tion, and are bought not only for the use of the neighbouring towns, but also by French hawkers. 48 THE oBERLAM) RERNOIS. [chap. xv. who make an trrand tliert' twice at least every year. Every one must be pleased w ith the situation of Than. Placed in the vestibule of the mountains, it unites the su>»liniity of iuountaln-se(>nery with the softer t;rac(>s of the fertile country that stretches towards Berne : the fine rapid Aar sweeps throui^h the town, and the castle and the church crown the wooded hill that connnands it. I n.'ached Thun al)i)Ut six hours after leavini; Berne ; and, after visitinj; the church-yard, fanmiis en accoinit of the prospect enjoyed from it, and havinjj: obtained sj\tis- factory evidence of the truth of what I had often heanl, that the priiu-ipal inn is one of the dearest in Switzerland, 1 hired a boat to carry me up the lake. The price of boats upon all the Swiss lakes depends upon the number of boatmen ; and a tra- veilt^r who has no opinion of his own, as to the wind and weather, will certainly be subjected to hi£rli diaries. Boatmen alwavs complain of the bad weather. With them, it is always either nuich wind, contrary wind, or the a]»pearjmce of wind. It was a-s serene a sky as was ever ri'tlected in the bosom of a lake when I arrived at Thun ; but the boatmen assured me that I could not attempt the ]>aKSii<^e of the lake with fewer than thre*' mwei-s. They admitted that it was not nuich wind just then, but the wind was risinid and agreeabl<\ The banks of the lake are extremely varied, changing gra- dually from the picturesijue to the sublime ; and a boat full of peasants, returning home from market, conlributed greatly to heighten the pleasure. They SJing some i>retty national airs, and sung them well ; and, long afti'r we had jjassed them, the cho- rus, swelling and dying away as the breeze fell and rose, came in wild and undulating melody over the water. Our voyage terminated a])out six in the after- noon, and 1 immediately walked forward to Unter- seen, a little village situated about half-way l)et ween the lakes of Thun and I'lrientz, and wliich is cer- tainly one of the most charmingly situated in Swit- zerland. The villatre itself is old and rather uglv ; but it is so small, that three minutes' walk is sutti- cient to cari'y one l»eyond its precincts. About three-quartei*s of a mile from Unterseen, is Inter- laken, the well-known resort of the English. Next morning I walked through it ; and, at every step from Untei'^een, I foiuid new reason to be delighted with the scenery of this most inchanting valley. Interlaken consists of fifteen or sixteen boarding- houses, lying at little intervals from each other, upon either side of a broad avenut> which reaches from lake to lake. The terms of these boarding- houses are reasonable enough. The two or three enjoying the highest rejiutation, chargt; 5 francs per tiay, wine included ; and for this, a well-served table and a comfortable a{)artiuent are provided. The next of the lioarding-houses charge 4^ francs. The inns both at Interlaken and at Untereeen, are the projjcrty of government ; which has, in conse- quence, made a ipost unjust decri e, by which no stranger can be received in any of the boarding- houses for a less time than nine days. Tn conse- queiu-e of this regulation, travellei-s meaning to reside at Interlaken f<«r a less time than nine days, are obliged to go to the hotel, where they pay a direct tax to the government, in th(> shape of most enormous charges made by the two inn-kee|)ers. This seems tu me to be a most odious monopoly, alike unjust towards travellei-s, and oppressive towards the keepers of lioarding-houses. The ])oarding-house speculation at Interlaken has been overdone. I saw two magnificent new houses almost ready for the reception of company, while the fifteen old ones were not half-full. When I visitid Interlaken, there were only between seventy and eighty strangirs there ; and last year, at the same .season, there were no fewer than seven hun- dred, of whom nearly five liundred were English. There w<'re reasons why fewer English than usual should lie found upon the continent in the sunnner of l}{;iO ; but there is a fashion also in these things ; and it is more than probable, that Interlaken luus already seen its most pr(»sperous days. But it is impossible that it can ever cease to be a rendez- vous ; for it is without doubt the most central })oint in Switzerland, for those who wish to find an agree- able si)ot, situatlain, in which In- terlaken is situated, is about four miles long, and from one to three broad. I need scarcely say, that it derives its name from its situation, lying between the two lakes of Thun and Brientz, wliieh are connected by the river Aar. The beauty and fertility of this little valley are extraordinary. The greenest and most luxuriant meadows — the richest and most variegated foliage — orchards pendent with their beauteous burden - -gardens enanulled with fiowei-s, anil stored with e^ery vegetable production — form altogether a carpen of rare beauty. And although CHAP. XV.] THE OBERLAND BERNOIS. 49 I have called this s])ot the plain of Interlaken, and it may well l)e called a plain in comj»arison with the surrounding eonnti-y,\et it is not literally a [•lain — it is strewn with picturestiue eminences, rocky, and ovei-spread with fine old wood ; and, along the right side of the river, the bank rises gradually uj) to the mountains that shut in the valley. 1 do not be- lieve a more charming spot than Interlaken is to be found in Europe. 1 know of nothing that it wants. It combines the beautiful, tlie jiicturesque, and the sublime. The little })lain is redolent in beauty and fertility. The inuuediate environs piT^sent the jdc- turesque in its multiform aspects ; and the glorious peaks of the Silver Horn, tht; Monk, Mount Eiger, ami the Jungfrau, are tlie lionndary of its horizon. Add to all this, that the clinuite of Interlaken is mild ; that in tlie hottest sun, the fine avenues of magnificent walnut-trees offer an effectual shade ; that within the limits of a stroll are the shores of two charming lakes ; that, in one's mornhig-gown and slippers, a dish of trout m«ay be taken from the Aar for breakfiust; and that comfortable accommo- dation, and a choice of good society, arc at com- mand. And 1 think I may safely say, that if fashion should desert Interlaken, she will run counter to good taste. While I remained in this valley, I resided in the hotel at Untci-seen, which, I am told, is not quite so good as the hotel at Interlaken ; but, being rather more central ft)r the different excursions, I pre- ferred it. This hotel used to Ijoast for its hostess, the 7>.7/< IkddJ'ih'c of Brientz ; but it seems that the incivility of the landlord outweighed the beauty of the landlady in the eyes of travellers ; for custom falling off, the Beniese government, to which the hotel belongs, displa(M>d the tenant, and found an- other, the brother of the hotel-keeper at Interlaken, under whose surreUfAinoi it has recovered its repu- tation. The Bi'Ile BateUiere now keeps a little shop in Unterseen ; and there, I understand, her repu- tiitien secures her a comfortable livelihood; for scarcely does any stranger leave the valley, with- out i)urchasing some little ornament, the price of which, not being proportioned to its hitrinsic value, is undei-stood U) include also the value of a glance at the fair vender. She is now thirty-four, and is not what she has been. Without much riches, the villagers of Unterseen seemed contented and cheerful. It was pleasant to see them assemble in whole families every fine evening before their cottage-doors, watching the return of their goats. No family is without a few- goats ; and about dusk, or a little earlier, tlu' whole S(puidron, the united property of the villagers, arrives at the market-}»lacc, and there, like a bat- tallion to which the word *' dismiss" has been given, they break up the order of march, and run to their respective homes, in groups of twos and threes, while some one of every family rises to receive and tend the wanderei's. After having j)assed two or three days at Inter- laken, I left it on an excursion to Grindelwald, across the Wengern Alp, and Scheideck. I walked out of Unterseen about five o'clock, and was not a little pleased to see the summits of all the moun- tains disrobed, their snowy peaks backed by a serene sky. After crossing the little [)lain of Inter- laken, the road winds up the narrow valley by the side of the river Leutchen, to the point wheri^ the two branches of the stream unite ; one, the White Leutchen, coming from tlie valley of Lauterbrun- nen ; the other, the Black Leutchen, from the valley of ( Jrindehvald. United here, they are called Ziccylatddncn, and flow towards the Lake of Brientz. From this point a carriage-road leads to Grindel- wald, up the bank of the IMaek Leutchen ; but no traveller who can walk, or ride on horsel)aek, ought to go by that road to G rindel w aid, but l)y Lauterbrun- nen and the Wengern Alp. 1 accordingly turned to the ri";ht towards Lauterbrunnen, and followed up its narrow valley, often a mere gorge, to the aul}erlied. The cascade is said to be nearly 800 feet high ; but it descends entirely hi si)ra}-, and is wanting in that greatest attraction of a cataract — sublimity. 1 met two parties at the inn preparing to pass the Wengern Alp to Grindelwald ; — one, a j)arty of Gennan pedestrians ; the other, a party of English, two ladies and a gentleman. The character of the English ladies for enterprise, courage, and perse- verance, ranks very high in Switzerland. 1 have heard some old guides speak in rai)turous terras of my countrywomen, on account of tlieir contempt of difficulty, and even of danger ; while, on the other hand, the reputation of Frenchwomen for these same qualities stands as low as possible in their estimation. The ascent begins immediately when lea\ing the village, and for the fii-st two hours it is sufiieiently laborious. The labour is repaid, liowever, by the charming view which may at any time be enjoyed by turning round. The long, deep valley of Lau- terbrunnen, with its hundred rills stretched at your feet ; opi)osite, the cascade of the Stubliach is seen issuing from a mass of snow which crowns the height ; and to the left, the eye follows the valley UJ) to its majestic barrier, the Groshorn, and the limbs of ih.e other giant niountahis that stretch be- K lii! 50 THE UBEKLANl) BERNOIS. [chap. XV, liind the Weni^em Alp. You Umk down also upon the Schaniailribach, a vast snowy plain, where, at break of day, troops of chamois may f^enerally be seen, and where also the tinest ea<;les in Switzer- land have their eyrie. One was killed about a fort- night before 1 visited this place, measuring four- teen feet and a half from wing to wing. After an ascent of alK)Ut an hour and a half, I found njyself descending, and in another lialf-hour I entered uj)on the Wengern Alp. In this little hollow I saw several pretty cottages ; and ev(Mi at so gnat an elevation, the gardens attached to them were full of peas in fine blossom. A little farther, just on leaving the belt of wood that girds tlie lower part of the Wengern Alp, I reached an open rocky space, where seven or eight small houses were perched. These I found to be receptacles for cheese. The temperature of this altitude is thought to be more suitable for the ripening of cheese, than either a lower or a higher elevation ; and every day, the cheese that is made liigher up the moun- tain is brought down and deposited here. One of the moiuitaineers having just brought some cheese, I took the opportunity of looking into the de}H)sitory. 1 counted sixty cheeses, and he told me that btfore September there would be 200. These belonged to four persons, each of whom have therefore tifty chec ses. The cheese sells at nine sous to the mer- chant, and by him to the public at twelve ; and is called j'ntnKKje de WeHeared reason to doubt if the attempt had really proved successful. No other endeavour was made till the year 1828. In the early part of that year, an English gentleman engaged some peasants of Grindelwald to attempt the ascent ; but the weather proving unfavourable during some weeks, the person who had engaged their services left that neighbourhood for Berne ; but the weather soon after clearing up, they set out by themst'lveson the lOth of August. They wc-re six in number ; and their names arc Pierre liow- mann. Christian Bowmann, Pierre Rotli, Hiltbrand Burgumien, Ulrich Vitvei', and Pierre Mosser. They comnienced the ascent from Grindelwald, en- tering between the Mettcnberg and Mount Eiger, and passing by the Glacier ////on'^Mr of Grindelwald, and the J/»r df Glace behind Mount Eiger. 'J'he first night they slejit in a natural grotto ; and at owe in the morninj' tluv ncommenced their jour- ney, leavhig the Monk on the right, and proceeding along the southern declivity of the Jungfrau. The iournev was atten(Uon the highest point, by screwing it into the ice, where it may now be seen by the help of a teUscojx-. The area of tlie summit is from thirtv to fortv feet in diameter. Towanis the south a vast field of ice extends toward the Vallaiit ; and towards the iH>rth descends that range of precipices seen from the Wengern Alj). Notwithstanding the accon plishmint of this at- tempt, it has never bt'cn succtssfully repeated. In the sunmier of 182!), two English gentlemen, accom- panied by guides, atti inj>te(l the enterprise ; but a storm compelled them to return, and the guides have subse(pu ntly refused to repeat the exiteriment. The guides of (Jrindelwald are probably less adven- turous than those of Chamouni ; and I was informed that storms are more frecpient and sudden in this part of the Oberland Bernois than in the neighbour- hood of Mont Blanc. Of such hon(»urable notoriety is the name of an EngUshman, that an impostor occasionally screens himself under it to commit inifiuity. An instance of this occurred last summer, and with reference to the ascent of the Jungfrau. A person calling himself English, and at all events master of the language, gave out that he meant to ascend the Junglrau. He hired guides, laid in provisions on credit, and lived f(»r a month at tlie Hotel des Centilhommes at Berne, upon the rej)uta- tion of having formed so great a }>roject. It is the usual practice to cross the ^^'engern Alp and the Scheideck to (Jrindelwald in one day ; but 1 preferred j)assing the day and the evening uj)on the mountain, and sleeping at the chalet, wlure I'very traveller stops to rest and refresh himself. 1 descended as far into the deep valUy that sej>a- I'atis the Wengern Alp from the Jungfrau as the precipices permitted, and spent the n mainder of the day among the steep diclivitits that lie opposite to the majistlc scenes which the l»osom of the Jungfrau discloses ; and when the sun went down, and the shadows crej»t up the mountains, 1 returned to the chalet, where I had some hours of comfort- able slet J) upon a skin sj>riad ui»on a table. \\ lun 1 awoke, it was past midnight ; and feeling rather chilly, 1 walked out. The light of a waning moon fell dimly upon the mountains. It was the reign of solitude and silence. Even the avalanche was at rest. The stars ahtne watched above the mountain- tops. At daybreak I commenced my journey towards (jlriiidelwald. The i>ath, after traversing the Wengern Ali», enters upon the Scheideck, and other mountains come into view successively — Mount Eiger, the Wettirhorn, the Shrtckhorn, and the Finsteraarhorn. These are all very elevated mountains, and striking from their forms and posi- riFAP. XVI.] THE OBERLAND BERNOIS. 51 tion, as well as from tlieir elevation. These, with the Jungfrau, ai'c indeed the highest mountains of Swit- zerland, excejiting Mount Rosa and Mount Cervin. Mont Blanc is not a Swiss mountain. Of all the mountains 1 have seen, Mount Eiger is the most inii>osing. Most mountains have several peaks, or summits, as th(\v are im])ro]ierly called ; and the highest of these generally n'cedes, and is only visible at a distance. But the highest peak of Mount Eiger overhangs the valley of (irindelwald ; and the eye is able to scan, at one glance, the whole range of precijtices, embracing an elevation of not less than 8000 or DOO!) feet. ' After jiassing the shoulder of the Scheideck, which is somewhat less than 5000 feet high, the path b(>gins to descend towards tjrindehvald. Here the Wetterhorn becomes the most conspicuous ob- ject, and a view o})ens into the heart of the moun- tain. It has long been supposed that this mountain contains gold, and al»out thirtv vears ajjo an attemjit was made to open a mine ; but the sujier- stitions of the miners were so strong, that the design was al)andoned. It was said, tliat whenever the hammer of the miner struck the rock, the stroke was repeated by some invisible being. Thus far the story may easily be credited ; but it goes farther. Sometimes the miners were assailed by showers of stones ; — frequently the excavations of one day were filled up next morning ; and at length, one morning the whole mine was found to be occupied by the riglitful inhabitants of the moun- tain-caves, and upon the miners endeavouring to make their escape, the roof fell in and buried them all. There might probably be superstitions to con- tend with from the first ; and some accident having happened to the miners, truth lias helped out the legend. It is certain, however, that the attempt was made, and has not been repeated. In descending towards Grindelwald, one remarks with astonishment the extraordinary effects of a glacier that fell some years ago. It is entirely a mistake to suppose that woods offer an effectual barrier to the })rogress of a great glacier. In this place the ground is entirely cleared ; tlie trees have been swept away like reeds ; and an area of at least a mile and a half Sipiare is strewn w ith stones and roots of trees. On each side of this area, where the glacier has not touched, there is a fine forest. The descent from Scheideck is tolerably rapid, but neither difficult nor long. The level of the valley of Grindelwald is greatly higher than that of Lau- terbrunnen ; so that the ascent from Lauterbrun- nen is much greater than the descent upon (^Irindehvald. In about two hours and a half I ix'ached the Glacier Inferieur. CHAPTER XvT. Tin: OBFRLANn nEKNOlS — TIIK CANTONS OF FRIBOURG AND VALD. Tlie (Uaciers of Grindelwald — Excursion on the Mer de Glace, and Details respecting' the Death of M. Mouron — State of the Inhabitants of the Valley of Grindelwald, and strange Laws and rsaf,a>s peculiar to it — Return to Inter- laken — Escape of a Schoolmaster — Valley of the Black Leutchen — Visit to the Lake of Hrientz — The Griesbach — The Evils of Imagination — Ikientz — A Moonlight Sail, and Return to Interlaken— Journey from Interlaken to Vevay, by the Semmcnthall— Spietz — Wimmiss — Charac- ter of the Semmenthall — Saanenland, Gruyere, and Gruyore Cheese— Descent to the Lake of Geneva— Vevay. Tui: glaciers of Grindelwald are always one prin- cipal object of the traveller's curiosity, and are well deserving of a vi.sit, even by one w ho has been at Chamouni. Tlie lowest part of the (rlacicr In- ferieur, w Inch I first visited, reaches into the valley. The finest verdure is seen within a few yards of it ; and, for at least a mile on either side, it is fringed with furze. One l)ranch of the river Leutclien issues from l»eneath it, of course at the lowest point ; and here an arch is formed about seventy feet high, and thirty w ide ; the ice, forming the roof of this arch, is like greenish crystal, and is extremely loose. A part had lately fallen in, and other large fragments seemed ready to detach themselves. The glacier extends up the mountain about two miles, and certainly ]>resents a very sin- gular appearance viewed fmm below. It is covered with |)innacles, some of thorn thirty (U' forty feet high, varied and picturesc^ue in their forms, and is intersected by immense cracks, which render it difiicult and dangerous to traverse. Beyond this glacier lies the Mer de Glare, whit-h extends l)e- tween Mount Eiger and the ^Merlikhorn. I also visited the Glacier Sii})crieur,\\'\\\c\\ difiers from the other only in having no jiinnacles ; but the cracks and crevices that traverse it are still more nume- rous and formidable than those of the Glacier In- ferirur. There arc two inns at Grindelwald, the lower and the upi)er. The former has the character of being the best ; but I preferred the situation of the other, and found nothing in it to coni})lain of. From tlie Salle a Manpened, iniUss the acei- dent had oecurred in th(> nuiinier 1 have described. Tlii-ee attempts were made to recover tlie bodv,and the hist of these succeeded. The head was found nuich bruised, and one thii^h ami an arm were for their separate inlieritances. There is yet an- other usa-^o still more extraordinary — so extraor- dinary, indeed, that I took ;:reat jiains to inform nivself upon the subject, as I could witii ditticulty ))rin<; myself to ^ivo credit to it ; yet, however in- eredil'le it may seem, 1 feel that I am entitled, from the ins I niad(\ to asseit the existeuci- broken. In all ]>robabinty, tlie unfortunate M. i of the usai;(>. When p(>i-sons are marrie.l, in what- Mouron did not survive tl'ie descent, which was I ever raidv th<>y uuiy be, the ])ride ]>asses the tweiity- ascert:iine the 3f»T (h' G/nci'f I left (irindelwabl ou my return to luter- laken, taking, of course, the short road by the baidv of the Black Leutchen. The valley of the Leut- chen is extremely narrow, and is remarkable for the dreadful visitations to which it has been sub- ject. Fifteen years ago, in tlie month of Jaiuiary, an avalanche swept away part of a forest, destroyed an inn which stood by the road-side, and, choking up the river, caused a most destructive inundation throui,diout the valley. U|)on this occasion, the schoolmaster of Grindelwald had a wonderful es- cape. The affairs of the aubergiste havint,' got into disorder, he applies tliat the word iii>i poverty. Their , the investigation not being concluded, the aubt-rgiste numbers jimouiit to between two and three thou- 1 pressed his frii-nd to remain till morning, setting sand ; and there is not out; among them deiu'iidi-nt forth tlu- dangei-s of a walk home during so violent ui>ou public or private »-li:irity. One reason may a storm ; but tlu' schotdmaster answered, that he j)artly e\)>lain this j)l|enomenon. There is a law had family-worship always at eight o'clock, and ])ecuiiar t(» this valley, which forbids the transfer- that he must not ne^K'Ct his duty. He acconliuLjly eiice of small I'arcels of property. A man must left the inn, and bad ]troci'<'ded oidy a few humlred Sell all, (U' noiu> ; he cannot sell liis mea that the multii>iii'ation of very small proprietors, .iinl t'le division of laud is checked. There are se\iral other carious laws and usages peculiar to (.rindelwald— one, among othei-s, Hiat a man cannot iieipieath his [)roperty to his chi'dreii bv testami'iei' of half a lea;iue, is strewn j w itli < iiornious fragments of rock ; some overgrown CHAP. XVI.] THE OBERLAND BERNOTS. 53 with grass, some with trees growing out of their crevices, and some broken tqi and converted into dikes and chalets, 'i'he view into the mountains, looking back from the valley of the 131ack Leut- chen, is magnificent. The whole range of the highest mountains is visible from several jtoints in this valley — the Finsteriuirhoru, the Shreckhorn, the Wetterhorn, the Monck, and Motiiit Eiger. Nitne of these have ever been ascended, and it is believed that all of them are inaccessible ; l>ut this cannot be ascertained until the attempt be made, which there is no temptation to do ; because the Jungfrau, which lies in the same range, and which is higher than any of the others, has been already ascended ; and the triumph — at all times and in all circumstances foolish — would upon that account Ijc the less. The sun was just rising when I looked back ui>on these mountains ; and the peak of the Finsteraarhorn alone was touched l)y its rays. If peaks do not intercept each other, sunrise or sunset offers a very simple mode of determining their relative altitudes. The ilav after I returned from Grindelwald, I visited the lake of Brieutz. In navigating this lake, the strong curn'nt of the Aar renders an additional boatman necessary ; and, for some time, the progress is even then extremely slow. Just where the river Hows out of the lake, I noticed another liandsome l)uilding (I l)elieve a Ijoarding-house), erected upon a beautiful tongue of land, which has the river on one side' and the lake on the other. 1 found much to admire in the lake of Brientz. The mountains that environ it are not of the greatest altitude, but they are fine in their forms, and beautifully green ui)on their lower declivities ; and one side of the lake is spotted with houses and hamlets. The colour of the lake is whitish, arising, as is said, from the complexion of the Aar as it flows from the glacier. If so, it dej)osits its impurities in the lake of lirientz, because it flows a limpid stream through the j)laiii of luterlaken ; and the lake of Thun, which it subsetiuently enters, is dark -coloured. 1 passed a beautiful })eninsula — almost an island — about half-way u]) the lake. A i)retty country- house stands upon it ; and the whole is the ])roperty of a Milanese <;eneral, who made the juirchase be- fore the enactment of the law forbidding the acqui- sition of property by strangers. 1 noticed a hand- some l)oat coastiuLj the island, with the Bourbon !la<; Hying at the stern. It i)robably now carries a different ensign, AfteT a charming sail, the boat was moored in the little cove, close under the well-known cascade of the Giesliach. 1 had heard much of this fall ; and although 1 never expect much from the fall of a small river, yet I did expect something from a cascade, of which everybody spoke in terms of rap- ture. " Have you seen the (Jii'sbach ?" is almost as common a (question in this neighbourhood as " Have you been on the lligi ?" is in the neigh- bourhood of i^ucerne. I was much disappointed in the Giesbacli. It is merely ])leasing, somewhat picturesque, but not at all striking. The water is by no means abundant ; and if I found the stream scanty in the month of June, when the snows were fast dissolviuiT. and in a rainv season, how iiisii;- nificant must it be during' tlu' autumnal drou[jhts ! I'^verything has been done to recommend the spot to the notice of strangei^s. Here, there is a rustic lu-idge ; there, a little gallery ; winding paths lead to (VifTewnt J xn/zfA-s de nie ; and a house has recently been erected close by, where the organist of Brieutz and his family live, and where ]iarties take their pic-nic, and are serenaded by the organist and his family. This part of the entertainment, however, is pleasing enough. None of the voices are re- markably fine, but they harmonize well ; atid the character of the music which they sing is interest- ing, Ix'cause it is national and local. There is an air of simplicity and rusticity al)out the family rather attractive. This may possibly be affectation, or it may not. I should be sorry to judge harshly. The lake of Brientz is dear to the gourmand, from its being the habitation of the Biieiitz ling — a fish that is said even to exceed in flavour the far-famed Sardina. Imajjination, without which the traveller cannot feel the charm of the natural world, acts also as a check upon his pleasure. It is owini; to the activity of this faculty that our exj)ectations are never realised ; because imagination has already i)ictured something beyond reality. Nay, even while con-" templating a great object, we are ai)t to imagine something greater. For my own part, I confess that nothing has ever come u[) to my expectations, I can conceive something more charming than even the most charming of the Swiss lakes^something more majestic than the greatest of its mountains. There is no scene which itnagination may not heighten — no beauty to which it cannot leiKi ano- ther grace — no sublimity which it dare not attempt to elevate. When 1 have stood below the " Mo- narch of Mountains," I have imagined a mightier than he. The ocean in storm leaves least for the imagination. All this is simjdy the power of mul- tiplication. Where multiplication can add nothing to the charm, imagination rests. In the external world, imagination only multii)lics what exists — strews the bank of the lake with more liowers and finer trees — and places Mount Rosa u])on the shoulders of Mont Blanc ; and so does it act in some of the works of art. We can imagine a vaster building than the Escurial — a higher than the dome of St. Peter's — a greater than the aqueduct of Segovia ; but we cannot add, in imagination, to the charm of })erfect harmony — nor iniaudtie a finer than the Apollo ; Ijecause, in these, multiplication would introduce discord, or change a god into a monster. The lake of Brientz is said to be more subject to storms than any other of the Swiss lakes. The wind which had carried mo so agreeably to the Giesbach, rose into a st(U-m wkdle 1 remained there, and it was necessary to wait until it subsided. The organist produced his choicest bottle of kirshwaser, and another round of songs helped away another hour. In the Swiss inns on the high roads, the traveller will seldom meet with kirshwaser. Unless he knows that hnmense quantities of it are made in almost every peasant's family, he will be at a loss to account for the consumption of so great a quantity of cherries as are prcxluced in S\\ itzerland. There are various (jualities of kirshwaser ; but the genuine liquor is madi; without the assistance of j the kernel of the cherry. That in which the kernel is used, is not so wholesome, and is always consi- dered of inferior (juality. The storm having some- what abated, I left the Giesbach with the intention of dining at Brientz. Indeed, had my intention been to return to luterlaken, 1 could not then liave ■ns 54 TIIK UBERLAND BKRNUlS. [CHAF. XVI. r i ucc'oinj)li.she(l it, for tlie wind was still too high to permit the ruivi;^'iiti()ii of a small boat against it. lirientz is a pleasant little town, and the inn is admirable ; but owing to the accomplishments of the landlord, who adds to a knowledge of cookery some actjuaintance with the French and English languages, the charges are not remarkably mode- rate. All sorts of culinary implements, and little vases of various forms, are made in the neighbour- hood of Jirientz, from the maple-wood, and are ex- tremely beautiful ; but they are made chieHy for Euirlish travellers, and are therefore (War. It was past nine before the storm had altogether subsided ; and about half-past ten 1 left iJrientz for Interlaken, with a serene sky, a full moon, and a calm lake, gently heaving from the effects of the st(jrm, but smooth as crystal. Rowing up the bank of the hike, I could ncjt help thinking how unsuccessful are the efforts of painters in their representations of moonlight. The; moon itself they paint well, Imt the light of the moon 1 have never seen represented with truth. I-ong before our voyage termuiated, morning had dawned upon the mountains ; and be- fore 1 reached land, the highest peaks were ready to receive the golden tints. A scene like this is inexpressibly beautiful at the dawn of day. The morning air was waking the sleeping lake into life ; mountains were unveiling themselves ; the beautiful carpt t of the little plain was gemmed with pearls, and the refreshing rains of the last evening had given a brighter hue to the meadows, and a deeper tint to the v oods. 1 had never seen Interlaken look so lovely. My route was now to Vevay, to which there are two roads from Inti-rlakeii ; one returning to Berne, and from thence to Vevav, which is the road almost invariably taken ; the other direct to Vevay by the Sennuenthall. The first part of this latter road is extremely bad, and the inns upon it are very dif- ferent from those found on the more frequented Swiss roads ; but if this road were more frecjuented, the Swiss would soon hnd it to be for their own intei'est to erect better inns, and to make a smoother highway. After leaving Interlaken, 1 passed through a continued orchard of cherry and apple-trees, which cover the slopes that stretch upward from the bank of the lake of Thun. Manv charmin;' vistas of tin; two lakes, and of the j)lain of Inter- laken, are discovered from these slopt's, and many ])leasant ]»ietures of counti'y liiV; lay around ; for the bav-harvi'st had not vet ended, and the in- gathering of fruit had begun. Between Interlaken and the head of the valh'y of Semmen, 1 saw two most charming spots — Spietz and W'immis. Sj»iet/. is the last village which the road touches, before it leaves the lake of Thun. Here the lake forms a little bay. Upon a small eminence stand the church and the minister's housi', with a charming garden stretching into the lake. All the houses of the village are white, and each is detached with its garden. Round the village are wcnxls and mea or J!()() feet ; and near the summit of one of these, arc the ruins of a chateau. The river Sennnen runs close to the village, the houses of w hich are white and detached, like those of Spietz. In the garden of the inu at Winunis, I gathered some red currant berries as large as small cherries, and some raspberries twice as large as they are generally found iu England. At Wimmis begins the Si'mmenthall, which stretches to the foot of the mountains that form the noi'thern boundary of the lake of Geneva. I have seen few parts of Ssvitzerland more beautiful than the upper part of this valley — no i>art of it so naute. I should think it nmst be ivnpossible to travel through this valley without being conscious of an inward cheerfulness ; it is fruitful, smiling, abun- dant, beautiful. Tliere is no sublimity to be seen, scarcely even any thing of the pictures(iue. The hills, which slope gracefully back, are covered to the sunnnit with a varied carjiet of meadow, wood, and corn. Houses, luunlets, and villages, lie thickly along the banks of the river, which flows through a succession of orchards and gardens. Here, as in other parts of Sw itzerland, tlie hay-harvest was not completed ; and 1 noticed a curious mode of leading hay from a steep sIojjc. A man collected a large load, attached it to his body with a rope, and seating himself upon the ground, slid down the steep, with his hay-stack behhid him. In this valley the num- ber of cherries is really incredible ; but 1 saw no other kind of fruit, not even gooseberries, in the gardens. It seems strange, at hi-st sight, that in Switzerland no use shouM be made of the great ([uantity of fruit, especially cherries and apples, as a comnu)!! article of diet. An ai)ple or a cherry- pie is never seen in Switzerland. The reason of this may probably be the expense of sugar, or at least the habit of considering all foreign commo- dities articles of luxury, which cannot fail to be the case in a country where every peasant lives upon the produce of his ow n property. I p:ussed the first night after leaving Interlaken, at Oberwyl, and next day 1 walked to Chateau VYY^s^. During this day's journey, the valley became more contracted, but scarcely less beautiful. Here, as in many <)tlier parts of Switzerland, the country appears more populous than it really is, owhig to the great number of houses that are scattered over the valleys ; but these are in many places only cha- lets, inhabited during a few months by the person who tends the cattle, or only by the cattle them- selves. During the forenoon, 1 passed from the valky of the Simmen into that part of Switzerland called Saanenland, and dined at the little town of Saanen. This is the beginning of the most famous cheese country in Switzerland, perhaps on the con- tinent ; for it is here that the celebrated Gruycre is made. There is a curious law in this valley re- specting the sup[)ort of the poor. Whatever money is given to parents for the support of their children, the latter must repay afterwards. This seems to be an unjust law, because it visits the sins of the fathers upon the children ; it may have the gooil elfect, however, of rendering the former prudent and frugal. The wages of labour in this valley are about "iUX. ; but ev»ry thing is not upon so low a scale. The rent of the little inn where I dined, was no less than Wll. All along this line of road 1 found the inns nniarkably cheap. The luxuries which are always to be found in the inns on the CHAP. XVII.] GENEVA. 55 groat Swiss roads were not indeed to lie met with in the Semmenthall, or in Saanenland ; but comfort- able accommodation and a tolerable dinner are always provided at a very moderate price. At Saanen, I was charged one franc for a good dinner and a bottle of wine ; and the landlord made the demand with the air of a man who thinks it very (piestionable if his demand will be complied with. Chateau D'Ex, where I arrived late in the ev^en- ing, is charmingly situated. I arrived thoroughly wet, having walked during the last throe hours under a torrent of rain ; but a whole familv of old ladies who keep the inn, took mo under their espe- cial care — lighted a blazing fire, made me a com- fitrtabk? cup of tea, and bore me company during the evening. Next morning 1 left Chateau D'Ex for Vevav. The road lies through the valley of the Saaue, and ]»asses near, but not through, the town of Gruvere. No cheese is made in Gruyere, but in the different villages and hamlets in the valley of the Saane, though all the cheese made in the can- ton is called CJruyere. The best cheese is made at Albeauve, between Chateau D'Ex and Gruyere. All the cheese of Switzerland is of the same kind as tluit known by the name of Gruyere, excepting Chapsieger, of which I have already spoken, and Neufchatel, which is somewhat different ; and all the cheese made in every part of Switzerland, is sent into France under the name of Gruycre, ])ro- vided it is not too delicate to bear carriage. But the finest of the Swiss cheeses are consumed iu Switzerland, because they are too delicate for ex- ])ortation. At Andermatt, at Saanen, and at other jilaces, 1 have tasted cheese far superior to any that can be bought in Paris. In the year D>21), the Canton of Fribourg exported 24,000 (juintals, or 2,400,000 lbs. Generally, throughout these valleys, and in the commune of (jlruyere, the inhabitants are above poverty. During a pai't of the year, there are not so many hands in the cheese-country as are required, and these are of course borrowed from other and poorer communes. Wages are there very high, in comparison, at least, with most other parts of Switzerland : they are about 2s. (>d., exolusive of living. 'J'he finest cattle in Switzerland are reared in this neiL,dibourhood ; and in these, and the exjiort of cliei-se, consists the ])r(jsperity of the Canton of Fri- bourg. At the fair of Bulle, as many as 2000 head of cattle are often shown. Friljourg ought to be richer than any other canton in Switzerland of the same size. It grows sutticient grain for its con- sumption, its meadows rear a choice breed of cattle, and its mountains produce cheese renowned all liver the world. The canton is rich, but it might be richer ; the ])eople are comfortable, but they might be affluent. The same reasons that affect the ])rospority of the Canton of Lucerne, operate [trejudicially upon the condition of Fribourg. Gruyere is a striking ol)ject from the road ; and [ walked up the mount upon which it stands. The extent of the ancient castle is great, and in other days its strength must have defied the attempts of a leijion of bowmen. It is said to be more than 1200 veaiN old. As I continued my iournev from Gruycre, I arrived at a scene of singular desola- ti(jn ; it was the ruins of a village which had been burnt on the sixth of the ])receding March. It consisted of thirtv-eit'ht houses, and thev were all consumed. The church and the minister's house alone escaped, which I need scarcely say was looked upon as a miracle. The peasants were all busy rebuildinjT their houses, and seemed as cheer- ful as if their labour were voluntary. The descent down the little river Vevaise, to the town of Vevay, is rapid ; and a small part of the lake of Geneva is seen below, deeply imbedded in the mountains. I was now in the Pays de Vaud, and in a land of vines, which every where covered the slopes ; and before reaching Vevay, I passed many pleasant country-houses, with gardens and orchards, whose produce bespoke a milder climate than that of the Oberland Bernois. There is nothing in the town of Vevay particu- larly attractive. Its situation is its charm, and that is truly delightful. The waters of Lake Le- man come close up to the houses, and a fine shady promenade extends from the little harbour along the bank of the lake. There are some good streets and houses, and one well-built square, open towards the water, in which the Hotel da Lon^ins is situated ; Imt I selected Lcs trois Couronn<':<, which is in every res])ect an excellent hotel. Here, and at all other places upon the lake of Geneva, the Swiss character, appi'arance, customs, and dress, are lost in those of France. It was Sunday when I arrived, and the promenade was crowded all the afternoon and even- ing. No characteristic dresses were to be seen here, as at Berne, Zurich, or Lucerne : all was French. In place of the coarse petticoats of home- manufacture, the knit stockings, the picturesque hats, or grotesque head-dresses, were seen P'rench prints, shawls, celnturcs, and chapeanx. I should think Vevay a delightful place of residence for the autumnal months ; for it is in autumn, not in sum- mer, that the weather is to be depended upon in Switzerland. There is more than one boarding- house at Vevay ; and lodgings can easily be had at a very reasonable rate. Meat of the best quality does not cost above 3d. per lb. ; butter is about 8d. ; fish, fruit, vegetaldes, and wine, all very low in price. The bread, too, 1 found excellent ; and this is not a matter of minor importance. Vevay is not a dull residence. The coasting trade occasions a little l)ustle at all times in the harbour ; and the arrival of steam-boats, two or three times a week, from Geneva and Lausanne, creates a little variety. The market-day, too, is always an interruptit)n to the monotony of a country-town. As for the en- virons of Vevay, they are enchanting ; and a boat on the lake could leave nothing to desire. Vevav wtis the refuge of Ludlow, one of the judges of Charles I., and of Broughton, who read the sentence of death. Their tombs are in the old church of St. Martin ; and that of Ludlow bears this inscription : Acermiws iiujuijiiator arlntraricB ijotestatls. CHAPTER XVII. THE LAKE, CITY, AND CANTON OF GENEVA. Lake Leman and its Phenomena — Visit to Chillon — Clarens — Rous.seau — Byron — Enchanting Scenery — Lausanne- Lausanne as a Residence — John Kenible — Gibbon's Li- brary — (ieneva — Manners and Morals of the Genevese — the City and Canton — Voltaire. The "reat charm of all this country is the Lake of Geneva, more commonly known in the P(Vis dc 56 GENEVA. [chap. XVII. Vaud us Lake Leman. The lake is eighteen leagues in length, and varies in ])readth from one to three leagues. Its greatest dej)th is 000 feet, and its height above the Mediterranean is 1150 feet. As a whole, I do not greatly admire the lake of Ge- neva ; but there are parts of it at least equal in beauty and grandeur to any thing that is to be found elsewhere. The charms of the lake of Ge- neva are not seen in sailing from Villeneuve to Geneva. There are innumerable charming little bays, which must be individually explored ; but all the upper part of the lake is eminently fine. Draw a line from Vcvay across to the Savoy side, including Vevay on one side and Meillcrie on the other, and the part which you thus cut off— a fifth part, per- haps, of the whole— cannot be rivalled by any thing that T have ever seen. Every lake has its wonders, and Lake Leman is not without them. In summer, it rises from five to six feet above its winter level. It experiences sudden oscillations of several feet. It never freezes ; and the Rhone traverses it without mingling with its waters. The first of these phenomena is at- tempted to be explained, by ascribing the rise to the miltinG: of the snows ; but I incline to agree witli an intelligent writer, in doubting whether so extraordinary a rise, over a surface of twenty-six >.[uan' leagues, can be entirely attributed to the cause assigned. With respect to the second phe- nomenon, other lakes as well as Lake Lenuin are subject to sudden rises and falls ; and these have generally been considered to be the result of elec- iricitv, aetiiiLT in one or other of its many fomis acclivity— gentle at first, but afterwards steeper, and crowned with the old walls and towers of Cha- teau Chatelard. It is more a concentration of ham- lets than a village ; and the walnut and fruit-trees, and weeping-wiil(»ws that surround and mingle with it, form a perfect rallnmhrom. All the way to Chil- lon the country continues charming; and everj- moment the massive walls of the castle become a more prominent o])ject in the magnificent picture that stretches around. Independently of the historic mterest of Lhillon, it is interesting from the beauty of its situation, from its forming one of the most conspicuous ob- jects in one of the most enchanting scenes in the world. The castle is built upon a rock, which, m former times, must have fallen frt)m the neighbour- incT mountain ; and both the strength of its position, aiiTl the strength of its walls, have more than once enabled it to' make a stout resistance in times of trouble. A drawbridge leads into the castle ; and I was, of course, conducted into the dungeons. The history of these dungeons is known to every | one. The principal dungeon is large, cold, but not ' dark. Several stone columns run along the nuddle of it ; and to three of these are still attached the rings to which prisoners were cliained. It has often been repeated, that these dungef>ns are below the level of the lake ; but this is an error. The fioor of the dungeon is about the average level of the lake. In spring and autumn, their level is the same. In summer, the level of the lake is some- times from two to three feet above the floor of the dungeon, and in winter as nuich below it. liut al- tricitv actni"" ni one or oiner oi us miin\ luim:^. i '.-■•^ ■> - i.„u „„,i uuu\, aiiu._, ii MiK. 1 . • • .. r, tl.oiurli these dun'^eous are not quite so dark and A^ to ts never Irec/ui". I am bound to ;:ive credit i iuoul^u iutt.c uuu^v v*"--' "*^ ^ , . i ^i AS TO us u< v» 1 juv /.ni_, I .1111 -- u e, honn r.M.resented to be.thev are to the testimony of thos;> w lio reside upon its banks ; but it is not diilicult to believe that deep water should retain a higher temperature than tlie in- cumbent atmosplu re. And as ro the last of the phenomena named — that the Rhone traverses the lake without mingling with its waters — it is too ab- surd to need refutatiou. This could not be, unless the itu])«>tus of the Rhone were able to cou(|uer the resistaiiee of the waters of the lake — which is a ridiculous sup])osition. The (lav after I arrived at Vevay 1 dedicated to Clarens aud Chillon. 1 left Vevay about four o'clock, takhig a carriaL,'«> as far as Cjiillou, where I sent it back, that 1 might enjoy alone, and at lei- sure, the interesting and delii,ditful scenery of these beautiful and almost classic sp(»ts. I was particu- larly fortunate in the choice of an evening. The wi-a'ther ha evening it cleared up ; and as 1 passed aloug the shore of tlu' lake towards Chillon, all was beauty — be^iuty, sere- nitv, and lU'itose. About a mile from V^evay, turn- ing a headland, the head of the lake opens to view, w ith Chillon's gi*ay walls ri-ing out of the water, and reiiosiiiir airainst the dark woods that lie be- hind. " Clart'iis ! sweet Clarens ! birth-i>l;ire of deep love," who could ])ass thee by ? lb re it was that Rous- seau dreamed the dream that has made hhn immor- tal. Tlu'se scenes are peopled with the creations of his fancy ; and scarcely can we forliear iunuiiinu', when- is'the dwelling of Julie '. Clarens was doubi- hss Rousseau's lj<f tyraimy. The chief historic interest attaching to the cas- tle of Chilhm, is its connexion with the name of IJonnivanh who inhabited its dun-.'ou dnrhig six vears. Although every one knows the history of liounivard, 1 cannot entirely pass it over. Francois H.^nnivard, loiil of Lume, was born in \VM\, an war upon the republic, Ik.Miuvard zealously opposed his encroachments, and thus incurred his resentment. In the year lolC, when Ronnivard was twenty-three yeai-s old, the duke of Savoy entered (ienesa, and 'lionnivard Hed in the direction of Fribourg ; but he was overtiiken aiul seized by command of the duke, anlietl him with the means of ci)ml.ati!ig for his rights ; and he, in return, sold his birthright to the city. Snbsetiueiitly to tins, Ron- nivard "t-mi)loyed his talents in the secret sirvice ot the repul)lic; and, in the year lolii^, wheu travel- ling between Moudon and Lausanne, he was at- tacled, probably by emissaries of the duke of Savoy, and was inade prisoner, and delivered up to tlu- dukt', who sent hhn to tlie castle of Chillon, where he remained six years. Ronnivard was then thirty-three years old.' It is impossible to know whether he was chain<-d to any of the pillars to which rings are attached ; but, in such a dungeon. CITAl'. XVII.] GENEVA. 57 one would be apt to think chains superfluous. Ty- ranny, however, is inventive in cruelty, and it may have been so exercised. In March, 1536, the Bernese took the castle of Chillon, and Ronnivard was liberated from capti- vity. I3ut his troubles did not end here. In con- sefiuence of the Genevese refusing to pay his debts, he quarrelled with them, and claimed restitution of his priory of St. Victor. The dispute was referred to the pope, who decreed to him 800 crowns, besides a pension for life of 140 crowns ; and after a suc- cession of quarrels and difficulties, he died in 1571, at the age of seventy-five. Twenty years before his death, he presented all his books to the Gene- vese republic ; and these are still seen in the public library of the city, where also some of his unpublished manuscnpts remain — among others, a History of Geneva. But the associations of Chillon with the name of Bonnivard are, after all, but of very remote and very partial interest ; and his sufferings in the cause of liberty carry us back to so distant a time, that our sympathies are but feebly excited ; be- sides, the object of his exertions seems to have had more reference to the preservation of his own pos- sessions, than to any higher purpose. But how, in those days, could this be otherwise I The poetry of Byron has tj;iven to Chillon a warmer, and perhaps a more abiding interest : as the captivity of Bon- nivard, as the blaze of Rousseau's eloijuence, and the fervour of his imaginati(m, have surrounded ClartMis w ith a halo of almost supernatural beauty — so has the poetry of our bard thrown around the prison of Chillon a glory that cannot die. The person wlio aceom}ianies strangei's through the castle of Chillon, seems to take pleasures in re- ])eating the partleulai's of loi'd Ryron's visit to the castle. He arrived in the afternoon in a cha- lonj)e. He visited every nook in the castle, and spoke very little to his conductress, who stoutly as- serts, that the name R)yron, seen upon one of the jiillars, was carved by him.self. This mail be true, Init it is certainly imi)robable. No one who has visiti'd Chillon on such an evening as that by which I was favoured, can ever forget the scene. I lin- gered long near it, and can-ied away a remembrance from one of the fig-trees that shoot out of its walls. Returning to Vevay, 1 ascended to the church-yard of Montreux, and enj()yed from it the most enchant- ing prosi)ect that I ever recollect to have seen. The lake, dappled with the thousand hues of e*^en- iii^, lay stretclied l)elow ; all its wooded bays and creeks, and little promoiitiu-ies, standing out in fine relief, touched by the iroldeii Vvj^wl of evening. The great mountains of the V, towei'ing into the •Serene skv, had covered themselves with their bri'^'hti'st vi'stiii 'Mt ; fVtr the gorgecjus west streamed u]>oii their pinnacles and fields of snow, veiling its |)urity in a robe of j)ale carnation. Around was the deep foliage of summer — below lay Clarens, minified with the waters of the lake — and o])j^osite were' the rocks of Meillerie, alreadv forsaken l)v the sunbeams, and thriiwing their shadows forward into the glassy mirror. Chillon, dark and stern, reposed in shade in its deep traucpiil l)ay. All was very still. One blackbird now and then sent up, from a low dell beiu'ath, its unanswered iiote. One or two lizards ai)peared and disappeared ui)on the ;,'ray wall that bounds the churel) yard. Tiu' old eliurch, too, and its sacred precincts, gave a soin- breness to the scene ; and the jasmine that covered its walls, sent around as sweet a fragrance as ever mingled with the summer air. In leaving the church-yard, I noticed the following inscrii)tion placed above a bolte aux paurres: " Toi, qui viens admirer nos rians paysages, en passant, jcte ici ta piti^ aux malheureux, et le Dieu dout la main des- sina ces rivages, te be'nira dcs cieux 1" Long before I reached Clarens, the sun liad set ; and the reader will excuse me, when 1 acknowledge that I lingered a while by the margin of the lake, and strolled up one of the little wmding roads that lead round the houses and orchards, scrutinizing them as keenly as if I might have chanced to see through Julie's parlour window ; or Julie, her cou- sin, and St. PreiLx, seated in tlie bosquet. It was quite dark when I reached Vevay. The supper- table was laid out, and I sat down with a large party of English, just arrived in the steam-boat from Geneva, and taking this road to the Simplon and classic Italy. One of them, hearing me speak of Chillon, asked if I had been tliere, and if it were true that lord Bvron had one of the dungeons fit- ted up as a bed-room ! Next morning, I left Vevay for Lausanne, in a small boat, with tAvo boatmen. Between Vevay and Lausanne, the banks of the lake present a con- tinuous vineyard. This seemed to me far from beautiful, after having been accustomed to the ver- dure of the mountains of Brientz and the Seramen- thall. There is scarcely any city in Europe better known to travellers than Lausanne. Every one visits Lau- sanne ; and there are many who select it as a sum- mer residence. For my own part, I would greatly prefer Lausanne, were it situated close to the lake ; for its great elevation, as well as its distance from the water, are unpleasant drawbacks upon the en- joyment of an evening stroll along the banks of Lake Leman. But, with this single inconvenience, it must be admitted that Lausanne is a delightful place of residence. There is no doubt, too, that it is ffreatlv more healthv than Geneva. This is proved bv the bills of mortalitv, and is certainlv to be attributed to its greater elevation above the water. Lausanne is at present a flourishing city. I no- ticed many new houses erecting, and very few old houses to let. Several public buildings were also newly finished ; among others, the Mdlmn de Force. The inhabitants, too, are steadily on the increase ; and the number of resident strangers is also greater everv vear. When I visited Lausanne, there were about 200 resident English, forming a society alto- gether independent of the natives. There are some eheajier }>laces of residence than Lausanne ; but no one, i believe, where education is cheajjer or better. It does not cost above one-fourth of its price in England ; and I have good reason to know, that most of the English resident at Lausanne have been attracted to it in consequence. It is pleasant to think, that there exists any plausible reason for absenteeism. There can be little doubt, that the intention of those who banish themselves from their native country, that they may educate their children, is good ; but whether the determination be wise, is a different question. For it may admit of a doubt, whether it be wisdom to go abroad in quest of an education, which the means of the ab- sentee do not permit him to give to his family in 58 GENEVA. [chap. XVI). England. 1 louse-rent is decidedly lower in the neighbourhood of most of the English provincial towns, than it is in Lausanne, and the necessaries of lih- are not greatly dearer ; and for a family in the middle ranks of life, an education quite as suit- able may perhai)8 be procured in Exeter, Chester, Noi-folk, or Derby. The following are the prices of different articles at Lausanne : — Meat the same as at Vevay ; butter 8d. or 9d. per lb. ; bread 1 Jd. or 2d. per lb. ; eggs from 4d. to «d. a dozen, accoi'd- ing to the season; fowls Kid. to 18d. a pair; a duck Is. 4d. ; a turkey 3s. ; wine of a tolerable (jua- lity 5d. ; fish are generally i)lentiful, and reasonable in price ; and vegetables and fruit abundant. A week may be very pleasantly spent at Lau- sanne. The inns are extremely good, and not ex- cessively expensive ; and at the principal tabhii '/7/«^, the traveller will find an excellent and even t'legant repast. There are, besides, seveml good coffee-rooms, where the best French and Swiss newspapers are regularly received. The prome- nades on every side are beautiful, and the excur- sions various ; and let me not forget one spot where a day may be delightfully s])ent by the lover of Howers — the garden of Ikiiiaud, who possesses no fewer than 4(»0 varieties of the carnation. Lausanne may boast of some objects of interest, iiidcj.endent of ' its situation, or of the (ujraixnii which it offers. There may be some who would scarcely reckon among these the monument erected in the cemet'itre to the memory of John Philip Kenible ; and yet, who has not been accustomed to associate with the productions of Shakspeare their b<'st inttrjtreter I This monument cannot be de- void of interest to him who remembers the godlike Roman, or the lover of the gentle Ophelia. But the name of (ubl)on is associated with Lau- sanne ; and his library still remains in the con- dition in which he left "it. I, of couse, visited it. It is tolerably large ; but more remarkable for the selection of the best works and best tnlitions, than lor its extent. 1 notice, and died in 15(i4, after having founded the college, the academy, and the library. Well may Geneva be proud of a name to which millions owe the light of rational religion. The stranger will find it difficult to discover m Geneva any trace of the puritanism and severity of manners for which that city was so renowned in earlier times. 1 was never among a livelier or gayer population. Amusement seemed to be the reigning i)assion, and religion little less a matter of form than it is in France on Sunday. After listen- ing to a favourite preacher, the Genevese flock to the theatre. The shops of Geneva also are open on Sunday, the same as on other days, and every man plies his trade as usual. The gaiety of the Genevese is chiefiy seen on Sunday ; for the citizens of Ge- neva are most of them engaged in trades that recjuire application and close confinement— no fewir than 'Mm) of the 2:i,(»00 inhalntaiits being engaged in watch-making and gold-working. The number of watches made in a year is said to be somewhat be- yond 70,000 ; and of these, at least OO.OOO are of gold. In these, and in the jewellery trade, between 70,000 and H0,000 ounces of gold are t niployed, and about 50,000ouncesofsilver. A considerable (iuunlity of precious stones, particularly pearls, are empl(»y( il in jewellery, and in the embellishment of watches, aniounting in value, as 1 was informed, to 20,000/. sterling yearly. There are many bad, and some good streets in Geneva ; and both within and in the immediate neighbourhood of the town, an- many pleasant {uo- nunades, among others the botanic garden ; but 1 rcukarked that the Genevese preferred the streets, and left the shady walks nearly deserted. The Ilhone divides the city into two uneiiual parts, antl is spanned by several woodin Itridgts. it is beau- tifully blue, but is certainly not so rapid as the Keuss. 'f he Canton of Gen(>\a is extremely small — the least in the confederation. It is composed of the territory of the ancient re|)ublie, and of certain parts of'Savoy added to it by the congress of Vii nna, and secured by the treaty td" Taris. At the same time, the ct»nstitutionof the republic was remodelled. its government is now representative. Tlie execu- tive part of it is comjiosed of a council of twenty- ei"htmembersandf»)ur svndics,or chief nuejistrates, all of whom are elected by the council of rei>resin- tatives, amounting to 27}! uiembers^formerly called the council of two hundri () DESCENT OF THE RHONE. [chap. XIX. impetuous current of the " arrowy Rhone. Here, at the confluc nee of these great rivers, Napoleon boL'an the erection of a pahico ; and no site could have been better chosen ; but his purp(>se v^an frustrated by the events that destroyed ahke the prospects of his ambition and his caprice. In returning to tlie hotel, 1 passed through the jrreat square, La IHace lielUroar ; ^vluch mdeed lies in its immediate neighbourhood. It was now almost dusk ; and the sciuare was crowded with the middle and upper classes, who now enjoyed the mild coolness of a delicious evening, after the op- i.ressive heat that had conHned them all day to their twilight apartments. There is scarcely any difference perceptible between the upper and mid- dle classes in Lyons and in Paris, La nuxk in I'aris is hi mule all over I'raiiee. The important air and display ("f tine linen among the men, and the trip- pin-' step, and charming btmneis and frills among tlie"vomrn, are e-iually cliaraeteristie in the Place Brllrrnnr of Lvoiis, as in the Tuilleries of Paris— of that nation which contains the vainest men, and the best dressed women in the world. " Vice la ,j,il,.t^ /"_" [^Icf l(t Ixuf'iteUe r seemed to be as well un(l(>rstood there as in the metropolis ; hut, here and tlu re, 1 remarked one of those countenances I had seen on the quay, eyeing the triHei-s who sat eating ice ; and reeiivini:, at th(> doors of the r^f/i-s fn'.|iu lit alms from tlir light-luart.d Fiviielmim, who, with all their faults and absurdities, are good- natured ; and, notwithstanding their pai-simony, are fn-nerally ready with a i>>>ii» for im inU(:rnl>l<\ " The Phu-c )l,Utrn,ir of Lyons is a much finer square than the only square in Paris, tin; Plaw Va/jAow; and the greater i)art of it has been ei-ected since the revolution of IVi'^L At that peri.Hl, it was the scene of dreadful outra-o. The (h-slruction of this squan- was mad<- a republican t'(t,'. The infamous barbarian (outhon, who was too inhrm to walk, was carried round the J'/xre on a palaiKpiin, and gave the signal of (hstruetion by striking the eoiuh nineil liousr uith a small hammer, saving'^at the same time, '' Malsoiiyje te frappc de mart!" . . ''■ You must' by no means omit ^oincj to the top of the hill of /''e«/-n(/-.s" is the inir.netiuu of every ,,iR- you sp. ak with at Lyons. This r. minded me of the uni\ut thero is always some- thin-'- in thise in")unetisolv<'d not to omit profit- in-*bv the advice. On tli.- roa;l 1 juissed, for the fir"st Vmie, across the t^uay of the »S*((/;.', which 1 thouu'ht still tintr than the t^uay of the Rhone. The'Uhone skirts the city ; the .Soane traverses it. The bank of the Rhone, opposite to the (luav, is ilat ; the l)anks of the Soaiie are lofty, esi)eeially the north bank, which is in.leed beautiful, viewed irom the bridi;e- presi ntin^r, as it does, s«. eliarm- iiij; a varirty of town and country : for gardens mrn;,de with the houses that stand uiion its acclivi- ties piiul, above tliese,a fine raii-e of wooded heights stretch d*»wn the river, spiiiikicd with the eouniry- housis of the inliabit.mts. In contemplating this am-eeable pros])eet, it is bt tu r not to turn the eye below, towards the river ; because its inu.bly watrrs nfusi- to reflect in their bosom the scenes that lie alon- the banks, and rather impair than improve the effect (»f the view. i'rom the Uii'iv ••*' ^^'^' Soane, I ascended to Fourvicr by a steep winding path, from which, at every turn, new and agreeable glimpses were caught of the city below and the country beyond. 1 should prefer, if this were possible, to reach the .summit of an elevation blindfolded, because, before we arrive at tlie TiritaUc points de nie, it has lost much of its noveltv, by the many snatches we have already taken in 'ascending. The view from the summit is imposing, standing upon the spot from which pope Pius VII. blessed the city. To the east, the snowy summits of the Alps tower into the sky 'but scarcely to be distinguished from the clouds or vapour that mingle with them ; while the moun- tains of Dauphinv, lower and more distinct, stretch towards the south. Looking towards the south- west, the eye follows the course of the wide and flittering Rh(me, flowing between the wine-clad acclivities that skirt the Lyonnais ; while below, the city, environed by its two rivers, stands sur- rounded by fertility. My object now was, to reach Avignon ; and, having learnt that a steam-boat left Lyons twice a week, and descended the Rhone to Avignon in one day, 1 could not resist the temptation of so easy and .x'p'editious a mode of being carried to the south of France; and I anticipated, besides, great enjoy- ment from the scenery upon the banks of this cele- brated river, which, although in Switzerland, and at (jt neva, familiar to every tourist, has few travel- lei-s, and fewer chronielei-s, between Lyons and the Me(iit*rranean. With Dauphiny, Provence, and Lan-uedoc, who is there that has not pleasing associations i and although my e.\pectations were doomed to be afterwards bitterly disappointed, I stepped uito the boat full of pleasant fancies, and with very e.veited antieipatioas of a delightful voy- age and much enjoyment. CHAPTER XIX. DESCENT OF THE RHONE. Scenery of the Rhone between Lyons ami Vicnne— Tlic Cute Iluti Vineyard— Cciamerce on tlie llhone— Indica- fatiuiis of IIi-:it, and Discomforts— Dauphiny and Lan- guedoc— The " Herniitajie" Vineyard— Valenee— St. Peray Vineyards— Surtlrin!,'s frcmi Heat— Aecidenti.— Dangerous Navigation of tlie Ithone— Tlie Rapid of the Pent de St. Ivsprit—Seenery— Approach to Avignon, and Arrival- More Accidents. At five in the morning, the lioat h ft the river-side at Lyons, and it was proniisid by the mastir, that, in tlnrteeii hours, we shi)uld bo in Avignon— a dis- tance, by water, of not loss than a hundred and fifty miles. It was a singularly beautiful nn.rning. The sun had but luwly arisiii, and was, as vet, hieffectual ; only tlu- balmy iniidness of a summer morning was felt ; and a slight air from the south, .scarcely cool in ii-v It, w;u< wood hito sullieit-nt streiiuth, by the rapid nioliou of the bout, to lift tlu- stnamer from the mast-head, and to be i-efreshin-; to tlu- unglovi'd hand or uncovered brow. On such a delicious morning, how could the voyage be other- wise than charming i Rut the eaptain's predietu.n at parting, '' ^I'uiis (tnrou^ dc la diuLur aujoiird hut, ' proved too well-ieiUiuU'd. Retwicn Lnoiis ami Vienne— the first town of any consi-quence lying on the l)ank of the river vvi- shed through asuccessioii of the most charming CHAP. XiX.] DESCENT OF THE RHONE. 61 scenery. Sometimes the Rhone swept past fertile meadows or corn-fields — sometimes between thick and laden orchards — sometimes under high banks. i)icturesque, and clothed with wood ; and freijuent villages stood close to the water, or nestled at the foot of the heights that lay back from the river, leaving narrow plains or stripes between them and the stream, Vienne, situated under a high cliff, and the castle u])on its summit, is a striking and beautiful object in descending the river ; but it is after passing Vienne that the scenery becomes most attractive ; for there is now a perfect union of the beautiful and the pic- turesque. Naked rocks, crowned by ruined castles, rise from the midst of gardens and orchards ; and the bold and precipitous banks advancing into the river, contract its impetuous current, and force it into frequent, though not dangerous rapids. These are to be encountered lower down. It is here also, about a league and a half afu?r passing Vienne, where the vineyards lie, so celebrated for their produce of Cote Jioti. A little plain lies by the side of the river, covered with c«n"n, and sprinkled with fruit-trees ; and abcmt half a mile back from the stream are the heights or co/« that produce the Rhone wines. The hill upon which the Cote Potl is grown, stands somewhat isolated from the other ranges. It is about half a league in length, and about a mile in breadth, from the foot of tlie hill to the summit, where the vineyard terminates. The hill is rock, covered with a very scanty soil. This is the only vineyai'd producing the true Cote Roti; but, like all other esteemed wines, its reputation enriches all who are fortunate enough to possess vineyards in its vicinity ; and accordingly, the pro- duce of all the' adjoining ^o^>-, although distinguish- able by the cnninn^t^fi roduce of that esteemed vin(>yard. It is at the cost of much toil, and many anxieties,that we drink the produceof any celebrated viui'yard. The labours of the husbandman are incessant, and often abortive. Tlie management tjf a dcjlieate vine allows no intermission of toil. Digging, watering, weeding, smoothing, pruning, staking, tying, and gathering, fill up the entire year ; and all this labour may l>e frustrated by a storm of hail or a swarm of insects ! lietwt;en Vieiine and Valence we met several boats ascending the river, draggecl by horses. 1 noticed two boats, with twenty-seven horses at- tached to them ; some of which were (jl)liged to swim. The navigation of the Rhone must be both tedious ami exi>ensive. Every boat that descends the river with merchandise, must have another boat attached, carrying hoi-ses to drau; it uj) again. The traii-it from .Vviguon to Lyons occujiies a fort- night. So far our voyage had been pleasant. The rapid motion of the boat had carried us a long way be- fore the sun had aetpiired jj^reat power ; and, uj) to this time, the light air f'ro.n the st>uih had eon- tinued : but a breathless calm had now succeeded ; and till' sun every moment acquiring new })0sver, the heat bei;an to be felt — i>assiiig through all the gradations of small to great incoiiveuience, and at length becoming insupportable. This day at Avig- non the thermometer rose in the shade at one p.m. to 98*^ of Fahrenheit. Our boat had no awning ; there was no shelter ; and tliere was not even a pos- sibility of sitting down. It chanced next day to be a fair at Ijiuuixurc, the largest fair in the south of France ; and the manufacturers of Lyons had na- turally taken advantage of the steam-boat, to carry themselves and their goods thither. There were no fewer than three hundred and forty passengers ! 1 need scarcely say, therefore, that, with .so enor- mous a quantity of goods on board, and the boat being by no means large, one dense mass of per- sons crowded the deck. There was not a vacant spot. To sit down even upon deck, I have already said was impossible ; and as for the cabin, it was not only crowded as much as the deck, but, from its small dimensions and confined air, reminded me, when 1 attempted to enter it, of what 1 had read of the Black Hole at Calcutta. And let it be recol- lected, that there was not a cloud in the sky ; that the rays of the sun shot fiercely down upon the un- protected heads ; and that the air occasioned by the motion of the vessel, could only reach the for- tunate few who had succeeded in stationing them- selves in front. 1 need say nothing more of the really pitiable condition in which we found our- selves. Heat such as this, I had never before ex- perienced, and tjod forbid I should ever experience it again. Many pei*sons were seriously unwell. One young Englisliman, in particular, w ho seemed at times to lose the jterfect command of his intel- lect, turned to me, with an inflamed countenance, and said he could bear it no longer, and that he was resolved to throw himself into the river ; and it was not witliout difficulty that I succeeded in tranquillising him. Between Vienne and Valence, we passed some ruined arclu'S of a Roman briilge in the centre of the river ; and we also passed under two suspen- sion-bridiros, one ne.ar Vienne, the other before reachintr Valence. We hud now left the Lvonnais, and had Dauphiny on one side, and Languedoc on the other ; two provinces whose names cannot fail to awaken romantic a.ssociations in the minds of all who, in the .season of youth, have fed the imagina- tion upon tlie writings of Anne Radcliffe. Reality is, however, a sad enemy of romance. Nothing could be less allied with romance than a crowded steam-boat, and the groanings of human infirmity ; and although the banks of the river were always agreeable, and sometimes charming, they possessed 1 nothing of the character of romance. There were neither forests nor gloomy chateaux. The country on both sides was fertile, and for the most part flat, till, at Toanioii, about a league before reaching Vnli iici:,l\\ii bank rose into the hill which produces the celebrated wine called Ileriultiige. The extent of the llennitage vineyard is about three-quarters of a league long, and half a league broad. The c<'>f<' upon which it is cultivated is upon the left bank of the river, and it is therefore a Dauphiny wine ; but Hermitage, Cote Roti, St. Peray and St. George, are all known in France under the general name of wines of the Rhone. I need scarcely say, that the limited vineyard of Hermitage is totally inadequate to sujqdy the demand, and that neigh- bouring vineyards supply the dculxitnie and troisltme (jU'difis of this esteemed wine. Valence lies jileasantly on the left bank of the river, surrounded by a fertile country, abounding in mulberry-trees, almond, and many kinds of fruit- trees — among them a few figs. Opposite to the 62 DESCENT OF THE RHONE. [chap. XIX. town, a conical lull rises close to the Rhone ; and at the distance of about a mile beyond Valence, a long range of vine-covered hills runs parallel with the riv(>r. Part of those produce the ditterent spe- cies of St. Penuf, a wine comparatively little known in England, biit which will no doubt find its way into tiie English market, along with many other delicate and unknown wines, now that the enlight- ened policy of the British government has equal- ized the duties. The Mousseiur St. Peray is, to my mind, greatly superioi', as a dessert wine, to the best C'hanipagne. After passing Valence, the luat bt-came more and more insupportable ; and an accident which hap- pened to the machinery, in place of being regarded as a misfortune, was welcomed as a blessing, for it purchasfd a sliudit respite from the real sutlerings which tile laat intlieted. It was found necessary to run the boat ashore, aihl we received the agreeable permission to leave the vessel till the maehinery could be put to rights. There was fortunately a ehinip of nuilberry and other trees at l)Ut a short distance from the bank ; and their welcome shade was soon occupied by all who luul the courage to walk along the narrow plank from the boat to the shon-. The luxury of tiiis half-hour was eomi^lcte. Divesting myself of part of my clothing, I lay among the long grass, cooling my mouth with oranges, which 1 had providently Itrought with nu- from l.yons. Miu-h amusement was excited by tlu' timidity of a })riest, w ho, after he gt)t on shore, could not fiiul courage to return on board the vi-ssel. One of the passengers, seizing the priest's arms behind, ])ushed him along the phmk. The i)riest screamed, the passengers laughed ; but the priest, suddenly freeing himself from his tormentor, autl running forward, the other lost his balance, and fell into the river. It was with some ditticulty he scrambled out ; but I be- lieve there was nobody that did not envy him the di]). Wo had not descended another league, when the nuichinery was iv^a'm found to be out of order ; and at the spot where the vessel was again obliged to be put ashore, the distance between it and the bank was too great to allow the plank to l)e laid. And here we were obliged to remain, exposed to the burning sun, and tantalised with the view of a delightful shaded slope not forty yards distant. Two or three of the passengei-s, however, found the temptation iiTesist- ibU' ; and, plun;,dng into the river, which was about four feet doejt, reached the shore and the sha«le, and were Ijrought back to the boat with the assist- ance of ropes. The machinery l)eing again put in ordir, we once more gt>t into the stream. The navigation of the Rhone has always been accounted dangerous, owing to the rapids ; and in descnding some of these, many accidents have oc- curred. In the month (»f dune, \i\2H, a j»arty of ])!( asure consisting of se-ven persons, descinding irom Lvons in a small boat, all j>erished, the boat Inning turiu'd in a wliirljiool, and struck the arch in pa-s ng beneath the foiif nt. Wt> were now approaching this bridg(>, and the dangerous rapid beneath it. The chimney of the boat was entirely lowered, and every one was ordered to sit down, or lie uj)on deck ; an order which could not be obeyed, owing to the crowd, and for which, therefore, an injunction to stoop as low as every one saw to be necessary, was substituteil. The prospect in ai>proaching the Pont de St. Eq^rit is sufficiently alanning ; the arches seem scarcely wide enough to admit the vessel, and so low as to tin-eaten every one upon deck with being swept into the river. The alarming appearances of course somewhat diminish in approaching nearer, though they still retain enough of the same character to create the strongest excitement ; and the i-apidity of the river, too, seems as if hurrying one to de- struction. One sheet of foam covers its surface several hundred yards before reaching the bridge : excepting in the middle of tlu' stream, where a nar- row smooth cuiTent, with numerous eddies, glides in a surf, and falls towards one of the centre arches, underneath which, the rapid increases almost to a cataract. The boat was of course kept in the cen- tre of the stream ; and when we had safely passed the bridge and the rapid, the general silence broke out into a Iniid huzza. After passing the Pont d^St.E^nt, the intensity of the heat began in some degree to subside ; but it was not until sunset that it was felt to be no longer oppressive. This was a joyful event. We watched, with the utmost interest, the great globe of lire descend and aj^proach the horizon : and when it was no longer visible, a shout of joy burst from the deck. It has often been said, that at a certaui lati- tude, the sky assumes a new aspect, most obvious at sunset ; and the latitude f)f Avi<,Mion has been named as the line at which this change is j.ercepti- ble. Somi' English gi-ntlemen, who were i)assengers, found no ditticulty in discovering a sunset diti'erent from any thing they had ever seen before ; but, for my own part, heavenly as the evening was, and glo- rious as was the sunset, I thought 1 could remember many as beautiful in my native country. It is in the latitude of Naples or Valencia that glorious sun- sets are to be seen. As we approached Avignon, the country became less interesting, less f(>rtil«', less wooded ; and at length the faduig light, only sutticient to show the more gigantic objects, discovered but the dim out- line of high rocks and irregular ruins against the deep blue sky. The dark mass of buildings on the left, now showed that we had reached Avignon ; and although we airived three houi-s later than tlu; tinu' [)romised when we started from Lyons, yet we were all satisfied that we had escajK'd the p(>rils of faulty machinery and ilangerous rapids ; and we had certainly no' great cause to complain of delay in completing a voyage of a hundred and fifty mil'-s in one day. But the disasters and discomforts of the day were not yet entirely terminated. The engine had not be<'n stoi)ped in time ; and the steam and the cur- HMit Kigether, carrying us rapidly jtast the (piay, and towards the bridge', where certain destruction awaited us, the vessel was turned towards the nu>le, in the hope that, by throwing out cabks from the stern, her progress might be arr(>sted. IJut this could not be accomplished without the boat striking the wall, which she did with such force as to stave- in the railing that eiu-ircled the deck, and to throw the whole of the passengers prostrate ; s<.me upon each other, some among the bales of goods, but, fortunately, none into the river ; for, when the col- lision seemecl inevitable, every one ]>ressed back, and left sufhcii^nt room to be thrown upon their faces, without falling overboard. It may easily be sn})posed, that the arrival of be- tween tliree and four hundred pei-sons, and lauding CHAP. XX.] AVIGNON. 63 all the baggage, would probably occasion much con- fusion, and many mistakes — some of them perhaps intentional. So thought the captain of the boat ; for he issued his command, that not one article should be removed from the vessel that night. The passengers, however, exhausted from heat and fatigue, crowded eagerly on shore to seek accom- modation and refreshment ; and, as every one seemed to be aware that the fonner could not easily be obtained for three or four hundred pei*sons, there was a genei'al race from the boat to the town. For my own part, I had never been in Avignon before, and I accordingly suflered by my ignorance. One hotel after another 1 found ci'owded, and beds were let to the highest bidder. At the hotel du Midi, I was told 1 might have a bed for twelve francs ; but, i-ather than pay so much for what would in all pro- bability prove little luxury in a filthy house, and at so hot a season, 1 resolved to return to the vessel and sleep on deck. This was no hardship on such a night, and indeed ai>i)eared rather enviable, after the excessive heats of the day. So, after swallow- ing ten or twelve cups of tea in the hotel de TErn'ope, to the excessive anmsenu-nt of a company of French- nu-n, who could not understand the wisdom of swallowing hot tea after suffering, and while still sufferini' so much from heat, 1 made mv wav to the quay and the vessel, where 1 found about forty of my fellow-passengei*s, who had, either like my- self, searched for acconniiodation in vain, or were too mu(di fatigued to search at all. The night was so sultry, that even a cloak in the open air was oppressive ; but the tea had allayed juy fever, and the discomforts of the day were re- paid by a sound sleep. Next malaces — fit for gods to dwell in, and pos- sessed not the ehann of pleashig environs — it «4 AVIGNON. [chap. XX. should be no city of mine. The cities of France, indeed, are remarkably deficient in this charm ; for the best of all reasons, beeauHo France is an ui,'ly and nninterosting country. All panegyric upon the lovt-luiess and laughing fertility of France is rhodo- montade. There is more of the beautiful and the pictures(iue in many a single county of England, or even ot Scotland, than in all the scattered beauties of France, were they concentrated within a ring- fence ; excepting always the Pyrenees, which I cannot lu-lp looking upon as a kuid of separate ter- ritory—the mere boundary between Fi-ance and Spain ; but, at all events, the Pyrenees must bo excepted. I have travelled through almost every part of France ; and truly, 1 have found its beauties thinly sown. If the banks of some of its ri\ ei-s be excepted — the Seine, the Loire, the Rhone, and the (jiaronne— some i)arts of Nonnandy, and the de- partments of the Pyrenees (and all these comprise not one hundredth part of the country), France is an unromantic, uninteresting, unlovely land. And even in these favoured parts, such as the vaunted Orleannois, where shall we find the green meadows that lie along the banks of our Thames, or Avon, or Severn ; or ujum which of them shall we i)ause to adniire thuse roniantic views— that charnung varietv of rock, wood, and mountain — that chai-ac- terise'the banks of the Taniar, the Wye, the Der- wfut, the Swale, the Wharff, or the Dove i These are nowhere to be found. Beautiful, doubtless, are thr banks of the Loire ; soft and swelling are its vine-covered hills ; and graceful are the bendings of its ]>road anf Is the journey from Calais to I'ans ; hut they who never travel* fiirther, suppose that lovely Frane( — panegyrised by so many— lies beyond. No sueh thing. Let them eontinue their jouriuy by whiehever road they please, ami tliey will find but little improvement ;— let it he from Paris to Stras- burg, fronj Paris to Thoulouse, from Paris to Lyons — it"is all the same. There is scarcely, in these thou- sand miles, one spot at which a man would draw his bridle, and say to himself," fhis is beautiful. ' Hut this barrenni ss of beauty would be nothing, were it not that France has been cried up as a land of beauty, and lu'cn made the sceni> of romance, delightful France ! land of loveliness and laughing fertility ! have been by-words ever since the days of Mary ([ueen of Scots; and more than this, ro- mattrkrf; have laid there the scenes of their fictions. Uau{)hiny, Provence, and Langnedoc, have been associated in our minds fron\ infancy, with romantic story ; and we have been taught by Anne Kad- cliffe, to suppose these provinces a terrestrial para- dise. The (lisappoininient to the traveller who '^'oes there w ith the expectations in which he is well entitled to indulge, from the repn>sentations of others, is truly i>ainful. Woods, chateaux, roiuantie glades, rocks, and rushing streams, where are ye '. Woods of olives are indeed seen, scattered over a valley, or skirting a riv. r ; but who that knows the olive of France finds beauty in such a picture ? I do not wish to underrate tlui olive of France, or nither the French olive ; but it must submit to the humble praise of adding zest to a glass of Laftte, or lending its oil to the delicacies of lobster and mackerel. The fruit is one thing, and the tree another ; and the dingy pale green of the olive leaf, its puny trunk and unmajestic branches— such as the olive-tree is found in France — can never adorn a landscape. Chateaux also we liave in these j)rovinces ; but, oh ! how different from the clia- teaux of whicli we read in the romance-writers, and which never existed but in their imaginations ! The chateaux are for the most part box^^s upon a large scale ; staring houses with wings, and a parapet wall in front, covered with vases of flowers. In shoi-t, we find the whole a delusion ; and our minds revert to the green acclivities of our own hills, our oak-foi-ests, our lakes and rivers, and the beauty and fertility that, along with the picturesque, mingle in an English landscape. 1 am perfectly aware, that in denying to the country through which 1 am travelling the cliarni of romance, 1 deprive my page of an attraction which it would be very easy to transfer to it. Jt would be easy to foster the delusion, to talk as those have talked befoi-e me, of lovely and rinnte France ; and to increa.se the discontent of fire-side travellers, by making them believe that the country beyond seas is all a jtaradise ; but 1 will be au- thentic at the risk of being uninteresting. If the traveller wishes to give to his page the charm of romance, let him go where it may be legitimately gathered ; but if lie visit a country where it does not exist, it is his duty to disrobe the representa- tions of others of their false colouring, and to tvll tho truth. The world beyond seas xm not all an Eden. Every land is not " a laud of the rose and the niyrth."' There are cloudy skies elsewhere than in Knglaiul ; bogs in other countries than Ireland ; and barren mountains in more lands than Sc(jtland. I am sick of the misrepresentations of travellers, especially respecting natural scenery. The scenery of countries whicji have even less pretensions to beauty than France, has found admirers, eonuneu- tators, anry that lies around. This respect and gratitude of sueceed- nig times. The world is under great obligations to him, not only on account of that legacy of his genius of which we are all the inheritors, but also, bc^cause it is to him that we owe many of the treasures of ancient learning which have descended to us. He was not only the greatest poet, but the most learned man of his day ; and his own exertions, as well as the industry of others employed by him, were the nieans of rescuing from oblivion many valuable remains of Ronuin genius. ^V e must not hlame Petrarch because he jire- ferred hi- "Africa" to his Sonnets. The former is indeed forgotten, and the latter live ; but in the days of Petrarch, few works had been written in the vulgar tongues ; and Petrarch, whatever his own opinion might have been of the intrinsic merit of his sonnets, probably thought them less likely to live, because they were not written in the language of the learaed. It is probable, therefore, that had Petrarch never seen Laura, he might never have been known as the most polished and elegant of lyric poets ; but only as the author of a Latm poem called Africa, for which he was crowned in the capitol, biit which has long been forgotten. But Petrarch is deserving of our gratitude, not only for the legacy of learned lore, which his zeal in the cause of letters has bequeathed to us, but also for the inheritance of his love-poems : for although it may be admitted, that in these we cannot discover that nature, and tenderness, and deep pathos, for which much of the poetry of our own time is so remarkable — they will ever deserve the character of being the most graceful and polished productions of the lyric muse that have adorned the literature of any people ; and Petrarch is entitled, besides, to the singular praise of having perfected, in his own lifetime, the language of his country. The same- ness of Petrarch's sonnets has often been objected to them ; but how was it possible to avoid this fault in the composition of three hundred sonnets in praise of the same woman ? We see them all collected together, which Laura did not ; and 1 have somewhere read, that had his mistress been presented with them all bound up together, even she would have been fatigued with the repetition of her own praises. It was in those days that genius found its re- ward. In life, it was courted and honoured ; in death, it was celebrated and mourned. The most splendid ai)pointments, the highest offices of the state, waited upon literary merit. Crowns were placed upon the brows of the victor poet in the Ro- man capital — embassies were sent to congratulate poets on the success of their works — princes were their companions ; and we read that Mahomet, a king, a conqueror, and an accounted prophet, stript himself of his royal cloak, to throw it upon the shoulders of an author. But all this has passed away, and there is now little left to incite to high endeavour, the mind of him who, with the loftiest genius, needs an incitement more powerful than the love of gain, or even than the jirospect of general celebrity. The distance to Vaucluse from Avignon is about six leagues. I hired a cabriolet for the journey, and left Avignon about nine o'clock. The road between Avignon and I'lsle, a small town about a league and a quarter from Vaucluse, is any thing but interesting. The soil Is covered with* stones and vines, which generally flourish best in such company ; and the only trees are olives, and some few midberries. But let me do justice to the skies of this latitude, which were cloudless and beautiful ; and, had it not been that the sun was somewhat t<>o powerful, any country must have looked well under so serene a heaven. The heat was indeed oppres- sive ; field-labour seemed to be susjiended : 1 saw the labourers lying almost naked under every tuit of trees ; and 1 found it necessary more than once to draw up at any s])ot where the friendly shade of a rather larger tree than usual Hung itself across the road. As I apjtroached I'lsle, the countrv swelled into undulations, but without any improve- F 6G VAUCLUSE. [chap. XXI. ment in beauty. The two hills were yet stony, and covered with vines ; and the trees, excepting some ahnond-trees, were still olives ; yet how delusive even this might appear in description ! " An un- dulating country spread on every side— knolls, clothed to the sunwnit with fresh and luxurious vines, laden with their rich burden, rose by the way-side, while copses of almond-trees, olives, and mulberry, tilled the hollows, and dotted the neigh- bouring acclivities." This is by far the most inter- estin<» style of composition, and in fact the easiest ; but e'ven on my way to Vaucluse, 1 will not vamp up a country that has nothing to recommend it. The heat was so intense, and 1 travelled so slowly, that 1 did not arrive at I'lsle until nearly two o'clock. Here I found an improvement — I found water and shade. L'lsle is indeed surrounded and intei-sected by different streams of the Sourgue, which issues from the fountain of Vaucluse ; and a fine row of elms lines the avenues that lead in and out of the town. The adjacent country, too, is tole- rably well covered with poplars, willows, and olives — none of them indeed beautiful trees — but better a thousand times than dwarfish vines. L'lsle is quite celebrated for the excellence of its aubei-ge ; and as I preferred visiting Vaucluse in the evening, because every pleashig scene is viewed to greater advantage at such an hour, I ordered dinner at risle, and sought the shelter of a dark cool room, where, revei-sing the order of things, I indulged in a siesta before, in i)laee of after dinner ; and so recherche a dinner as the aubergiste at l'lsle pro- duced, and so choice a bottle of St. George, were admirable preparatives for a visit to the love-seat of an uninipassioned poet. I was in no haste to leave these delicacies, for the sun yet shone fiercely down ; and it sometimes happens that a man, seated as I was, falls into the most agreeable train of thought in the world. 1 left l'lsle about six o'clock, and passing through a tolerably agreeable country, in less than an hour turned into the valley of Vau- cluse— which is rather a defile than a valley. On the left, it is bounded by a steep rocky acclivity ; and below the road on the right, fiows the limpid and rapid Sourgue, skiii:ed by a stripe of the finest verdure, about two or three hundred yards broad. Beyond this, another range of rocky hills bounds the right side of the defile. After following the stream upward about half a mile — the defile con- tinuing to be of the same breadth, but exhibiting features of more rudeness and grandeur— I reached the little village of Vaucluse, which is only a few houses and an inn. From this little village to the fountain, a narrow path leads up the ravine by the margin of the stream, which is a rapid the whole way from the fountain to the village. The defile grows gradually narrower, and the scenery becomes at every step wilder and grander and more sterile. There is now no green stripe by the margin of the Sourgue. Huge blocks of rock lie in its channel, and are strewed on every hand ; and the sides of the de- file approach nearer to each other. After about twenty minutes' walk, the defile is seen to tenninate in a huge perpendicular rock, from four to five hun- dred feet high ; and this rock is the sublime portal of the founuin of Vaucluse. As we approach nearer, the scene becomes more striking and ma- jestic. The rocks stand around like pillars and pyramids — behind them the walls of the defile rise inaccessible — the stream is now almost a cataract — and a few cypress-trees lean over it ; and high among the rocks are seen the almost vanished ruins of the^castle, said to have been in other days the stronghold of the lords of Vaucluse. It must indeed have been a stronghold, for the rocks beneath are totally inaccessible. Let me say, that I scarcely recollect any scene I have ever looked upon, with the exception of the pass of Mount Albula in the (Jrisons, that presented features of wilder or more desolate sublimity. Scrambling among the rocks, I now stood before the celebrated fountain of Vaucluse. At the dis- tance of a few yards, rose above me the huge bald rock 1 have mentioned, its front inclining a little forward from the perpendicular ; and about half- way up, springing from two fissures, hung two fig- trees, green and fiourishing. In front, the under part of this rock showed a wide arch, the entrance to a caveni ; and beneath the arch slept, dark and deep, the fountain of Vaucluse. 1 made my way down the rock that inclines upwards from the water, that 1 might look into the cavern. The rocky chamber of the fountain appeared to me, as far as the gloom permitted me to ascertain its size, to be about thirty yards in diameter ; and the roof, in most places, from ten to fifteen feet above the surface of the fountain. The water is perfectly tranquil ; there is no boiling up, or swelling out as from a spring— this, as well as the apparent blackness of the water, beuig owuig to its great depth. The fountain has often been sounded, but ineffectually— not because it is bottomless, but probably because the force of the spring bursting upwards, added to the ineffi- ciency of the instrument used, has prevented the lead from reaching the bottom. That it is of great depth, is, however, indisputable. 1 remarked, in descending to the brink of the fountain, a slight violet odour, which 1 at first imagined arose from the water ; but upon looking more narrowly at the rocks, 1 found it proceeded from a deep-red vegeta- ble substance which grew upon them — 1 think the bymisjvl'Uhus of Linnieus. The fountain of Vaucluse presents a totally differ- ent aspect at the season when 1 siiw it, and when it is seen after a continuance of heavy rain. In dry weather it is, as 1 have described it, a smooth, leasure I had felt the evening before, in contemplating the mai^nifU'ent scenei-y around. Indeed, morning is placed the trim white momi- ment within ten yards of the dark majestic rock that rises above the fountain ! 1 am happy, now that the Bourbon family has passed into the obli- vion it deserves, to be able to say one kind thing of any of that fallen race. The duchess d'Angoulcme, travelling through the south of France, visited Vaueluse ; and, seeing the monument in the place to which the taste of the committee had adjudged it, her royal highness took upon herself to ordir its removal ; and it now stands in the little S(iuare or market-place of the village. I have nothing more to add of Vaueluse. I left Vaueluse to return to Avignon, after an early diimer, with i-very prospect of being over- taken by a st-mu, which soon came on. It proved to be one of those violent winds to which the south- ern parts of France an^ so liable, and whieh are, in their nature and effects, jjeculiar to the j)ro- vinces lying around the (Julf of Lyons. This wind, called in I'rovence liise, is the ( 'ircius of the ancients, mentioned by Seneca, I'liny, Diodorus, and Strabo. Diodorns, in the tilth book of his history, says, " The wind blows with so much impetuosity, that it raises up stones larger than the fist, and clouds of gravel. It is so violent, that it carries away the arms and clothing from the soldiers, and throws over horses and their riders.'' And Strabo, in speaking of tlu' field of Hercules, situated bi'tween Marseilles and tlu- mouths of the Rhone, says, " The north-wind is so hoi-rible and violent in this place, that it carries stones before it, throws over men and their chariots, and snatches from them their arms and their clothes." Any one who has had the misfortune to travel in the south of France during the prevalence of this furious l>i,<>\ will be al)le to recognise the truth of these ileseriptions. I, more than once, left the carriage, fearful that it might be blown over ; and my face bore painful evi provinces ; and it is scarcely possible, in tra- velling through this country, to meet a gi'cater misfortune than a I'i.o' wind, especially if the word " met t'' be interi)reted literally. It was ojiposcd to me all the way to Avignon, and rendered the jour- ney one of the most unpleasant I ever recollect. Its effect upon the frame, too, is singularly disa- greeable ; it parches the mouth and throat, creates a feeling of suffocation, and seems to dry up the whole juices of the body. ' CHAPTER XXII. JOURNEY TO NISMES NISMES. Ignorance of some Travellers— Journey to tlie Pont de Card — Its Magnificence — Arrival at Nismes — Necessary Priva- tions—Character of Nismes— Its Antiquities— Errors upon the subject of French Politeness. TiiKRF. are two roads from Avignon to Nismes — one of these passing within a league of the Font de G'd-if, that most imposing anumg Roman reiiuiins, of all that are to be found out of Italy. No one, therefore, travelling from Avignon to Nismes, can do otherwise than choose this road. I cannot help mentioning, in this place, the extreme ignorance of purpose with which scmie jiersons travel. A party of young Fnglishmen, who descended the Rhone along with me, did not seem to be provideil with even the common knowledge aff'orded by a gui/.»■< blew furiously, and the first jiart of the journey was made by it both uncomfortable and dangerous ; but it suddenly fell, and a perfect calm succeeded. A))out mid-day, i reached the point where the road diverges to the I'ont de (Jard r and, leaving my cabriolet at an auberge, I walke(l towards the aipieduet. However uninteresting Provence is in some respects, it is, 1 believe, a fine field for the botanist. I picked up, in this short walk, inimmerable wild flowers : anression made upon me by the first view of the Font de (Jai'd ; and the impression was not diminished by a nearer approach to it. This is certainly one of the most sj>U'ns, both of the lower and of the middle bridge, are unecjual ; whieh, if it does not increase the architectural beauty of the structure, certainly adds to its ])ic- turesque effect. The two lower stories of the bridge are formed of lunvn stones, placed together without the aid of any cement ; but the mason-work under- neath the aqueduct is of rough stones cemented, by which all filtration was of course prevented. 1 1 is impossible to view this stupendous relic with- out the truest delight. There is no occasion to enter into and understand the details of antiqua- rianism, that we may enj(»y its magnificence. As a fine and imjiosing object, in coimexion with the sur- rounding scenery, it is worth a pilgrimage ; — as a relic of other days, it is wonderful and impressive. We know not the ])reeise era of its construction ; but we know that 2000 vears have nearlv elai)sed since the Roman workmen rested upon the summit, and threw down their tools. All that these Romans attempted, was commensurate with the extent and si'eniing stability of the empire ; but they guessed not that the work of their hammer and their chisel would outlive a thousand years, the glory of that emjiire. I do not know whether the greatness of this mo- nunu'ut is most conspicuous seen below, or from its summit. The traveller must view it from both positions. I remained long seated imderneath a rock, about [WO yards down the river ; and from this spot, the union of the grand and the picturestjue — of the wild nunantic features of nature, with the luajestic and unperishing work of art — is complete. I tiien climbed, by a difticult ascent, among rocks and tangled shrubs, to the summit ; and examined, thoui:h not with a critic's eye, the aqueduct ; and walked along ami through it, till some gaps and doubtfvd footing forced me to return The stupen- dous dimensions of the structure are made more obvions from every jjoint, by the erection of a mo- dern bridge across the ri\er, one side of which is supported upon the ancient bridge. The modern bridge is fine and elevated ; but, oh ! how insig- niticant beside its majestic n^'ighbour ! The top parapet of the modern bridge does not reach half way up the lowest tier of arches of the Pont de Gard. 1 turned away unwillingly from this im})osing mo- nument, which I yet often see in fancy, spanning the deep valley, seeming like a bridge constructed for the use of" giants, rather than of men — the work, too, of colossal hands. In returning to the inn where I had left my car- riage, I kept by the river-side, in place of going along the road, that I might not lose too soon the view of the object I had come to see ; but finding that the curve would can'y me, I knew not how far, out of the way, I endeavoured to find a ]>ath to the road, by crossing a thick wood that lay between the road and the river ; but I soon lost myself hi its intricacies ; and wlien I emerged from it, I found that I had walked two hours without having ad- vanced 300 vards from the Font de Gard. But I scarcely regretted this, both because 1 saw once more that majestic object which 1 had never ex- pected to see again ; and because, in my w auderings through the wood, I had found vei'dure, shade, and coolness — all rarities in Frovence. It was late when I reached the auberge, and night when I arrived at Nismes, where I found excellent accom- modation in the hotel d<- Lujcinhofinj. But when I speak of excellent accommodation in the south of France, this is to be understo(»d with one reserve upon its excellence. I mean filth — particularly the plague of fieas, which abound all over these parts — even in the very best hotels. I have fre<|uently been obliged to walk through mv bed-room from one chair to another ; and 1 always found it a necessary precaution to undress u])on a chair, that I might not, by ])utting a foot uj)on the ground, carry into bed with me half a score of tormentors. A traveller will also ])erhai)S look upon it as a grievous thing, and a direct proof of bad accommo- dation, that if he ring the bell, and ask for butter — (for what Englishman can breakfast without butter ?) — the answer is, '' 7/ n\tf en a yas.''^ Puur- quu'i ? For this reason, that in the temperature of the south of France during the summer months, the only kind of butter that ecjuld be produced would be melted butter, which might suit a Russian, but nobody else. And there is another reason why butter is not to be had. Pasture is scarce, and therefore milk is scarce : and all the milk that can be ])i'ocured is used for r<(fi- an la'if, without which, it is well known, a Frenchman cannot exist. It is, thei'efore, (juite unnecessary to ring the bell and ask for butter. I like Nismes better than any citv in the south of France. It is cleaner than any of the othei*s. There is rather more shade about it ; the pro- menades are finer ; and its antiquities give to it a pre-eminence of one kind over every city in Euroi»e, excepting, of course, the cities of Italy. Many of the modern buildings, too, are fine, and the private houses are resi)ectable, if not handsome. The streets indeed would have been better, had they been a little narrower ; for it is not possible to walk through the town, as in Avignon, without stepphig out of the shade. At Nismes we find ourselves arrived in that latitude where night is converted into dav. During the dav, the streets are com- j)aratively deserted ; but at sunset, every one leaves ills house ; the streets and the promenades are crowded ; and until after midnight, there is nothing like silence iu any part of the town. I began my tour of the antiquities at sunrise next morning ; and first visited the am}»hitheatre, which has the reputation of being the most in preservation of any of the Roman am})hitheatres of which the cities of Italy, Spain, or France, can boast. It is certainly the most perfect that I have seen. It is elliptical hi its foi'm. Its length is 412 feet, and its breadth 30(> feet. The wall all round is entire, and 70 NISMES. [chap. XXII. is embellished by two rows, each of sixty arcades, one above another. The good taste of tlie civil au- thorities of Nismes has prevented all building in the neighbourhood of this splendid remain. A larg«> void space almost surrounds it, and it is open to- wards the west, to receive tlie rays of the setting sun. How insensible does habit render us both to beauty and deformity ! I noticed hundreds, I might say thousands, of the inhabitants pass aci^oss the S(iuare ; and I scarcely saw one turn his eyes towards that glorious edifice, which is not only the pride of the city, but, as a relic of past ag«-s, one of the most woudei-ful monuments that the world contains. The interior of the amphitheatre fully maintains the interest awakened by viewing the exterior. Thirty-five rows of steps, once the seats of the spec- tators, rise the wliole way round from the arena to the summit of the wall ; and all is yet — not indeed as it was 2000 years ago, but — in sueh a condition as might lead one unac(iuainted with antiquities to guess, that three or four hundred years had i)erhaps passed over it. Rank grass indeed grows on the arena ; and weeds, and Howers, and tangled roots, spring up among the seats, and creep over tin; walls ; and wild-fowl nestle, and lizards play, in their crevices ; but the walls are solid, and the stone- seats are all there ; and spectators might yet as- semble, and gladiators fight, within its precincts. It is said that this am|)hitlieatre sufficed to contain 25,000 spectators. In this, however, I suspect there is some exaggeration. I judge by the com- parative size, and nundjer of pi rsons seated in the buildings in the Spanisli eities, which are dedicated to the bull-figiits. Their construction is precisely similar to that of a Roman amjihitheatre, excepting that they are generally circular, in place of being elliptical. About a year after seeing the amjthi- theatre of Nismes, 1 saw the Spanish bull-fights ; and preserving then a tolerably accurate recollec- tion of the amphitheatre of Nismes, I thought the P/a:(i (h' fax 'Inri'S at Madrid considerably exceeded the size of the Roman amphitheatri-, and yet the former will not contain more than 20,000 spec- tators. The French government — be it Bourbon, Cor- sican, or any other — deserves praise on account of the jealous care with which it watches over the preservation of the m(mumentsof antiquity that are found in France. 1 noticed at the amphitheatre, and at all the other antiquitiis of Nisnies, guards placed, to pi'oti'ct tluni against the injuries of the mischievous or the thoughtless. This feeling of reverence, which no doubt has its oiigin in French vanity, and which has probably therefore o])erated from the earliest tiuKs, is, without doubt, one cause of the excellent i)reservation in which all the Roman monuments in France are still found. I'rom the amphitheatre* 1 directed my steps to the Maison Carm , the absurd name by which this relic is known. If the Po)tt tie Gard and the amphi- theatre are stupendous, majestic, and imposing, the i>^(^^■oH ra/r(%' is beautiful. Antiipuirians, 1 believe, prefer it to them all ; partly because it is the most perfect Roman remain to be found in the world — not exce[)ting Italy ; and partly because sonu' mystery was long sui>j>osed to liang over its t>rigin anil use. This ground of interest is,how(>V( r, I beliive, nearly at an end ; for, in the year IJoH, J/. SUjiirr dis- covered accidentally the following inscription : — C. CAKSARI. AVGVSTI. F. COS. L. CAESARl AVGVS7I F. COS. DESiGNATO l'RI^CIPIBVs iNVENTVTis, — which proves that this was a temple erected in lionour of Cains and Lucius CYesar, the grandsons of Augustus. It was therefore built sometime about the middle of the eighth century from the foundation of Rome — the epoch of the first estaldishment of Christianity. From the name M(tb<>u ('(irrci', it may l»e gathered, that the building is rectangular. It is an oblong S([uare, quite en jn'tit, being only seventy-five feet one way, and thirty-nine the other ; and the height is also thirty-nine feet ; but it is indeed a gem, }>er- fect and beautiful. Within, it is adorned by thirty columns of the Corinthian style, the frieze and capitals of which are sculptured w ith the utmost taste. Many have been the honours rendered to tlie 3/ 1//- gon Carrie. Architects from all j)arts of Europe, even fn)m Rome, have travelled to Nismes, to take mo- dels from it in jdaster ; and Louis XIV. at one time entertained the project of having the building transj)orted to I'aris, that liis architects might form their taste upon it ; but this enterprise, worthy of a vain king, surrounded by parasites, who tell him that his power is boundless, was found to be jieril- ous ; and Nismes has retained her ornament. An- tiepiarians say, that the walls of this temple were covered with bas reliefs in marble and lironze, which have been destroyed or stolen ; and it is a curious fact, that the 'temple is destitute of all other light than that whicli is admitted by the door. The amphitheatre and the Ml,s d'lu'ih' fresh in my memory, 1 cannot resist the o})portunity that set nis to be open to me in this volume, ofValling in (question the con-ectness of two very connnon, but very erroneous opinions. One of these is, that the French are the most jiolite people in the world. Now I think precisely the reverse ; and that the middle classes of Frenchmen have the smallest share of true ])oliteness of any people in the world. A very si Ifish man camiot lie polite : and a very self-conceited man cannot be polite ; and 1 think no one who understands nmch of French character, will hisitate to admit, that it is not untinctured by selfishness or vanity. No place is better suited than a tJ, d'ho/c lor discover- ing these We akmssis, especially tlie former ; and I think it impossible that one can rise from a tuhh' d'h()t>', in any })art of France, witheiut an mifavemr- able' impression of French character, particularly of Fre'iich i»oliteness. Happy is the man who, at a French tal>li d'hote^ is seated near the president, or gene-ral carver ; e)r whe) has tlu' courage te) l)e inde\iende'nt of etiejuette-, by elra\\ ing te)warels him whate-ver dish he fane-ie-s, and helping himselt, u ith- out regarding his neighbours, 1 have a hunelrtd tinu's been surprised at the cool effrontery with wliich a Frenchman \\\\\ swee j) the i atables irom a dish eif m/dU/i', auel j>ass the bare beiiies te» hisneigli- liour with the prettiest bow of invitation, and per- luips even, " Mons'uur reut-il prendre un morc^uu de CHAP, xxiii.l MONTPELIER. 71 rolaUUV^ when all the Tolailk has been transferred to his own plate. lUit another failing besides selfishne-ss, contributes te)wards the incivility of a Frenchman at a tahlc rl'koU' — I mean his love of eating. Here I come to the other erroneous 0})inion entertained of the French — that they are small eaters. The French are (>ne»rnious eaters ; and 1 do ne)t rt;ally think there are in the character of the French any more i)ro- niinent features than their love of eating what is goexl, and their love of eating much. The French eneleavour to get over the charge by saying, that, if they eat of niany things, they take little of each. This is far from the truth. A Frenchman will take eif SOU]) and fxtu'dle alone, as much as would suffice for the dinner of an Englishman of moderate appe- tite. Ikit this is only the commencement of his dinner : his cotelette is to ce)me, his ju)mon is to come, his TohiUlt', his rot'i, hir. >]V>h'r, his Kujidm?, his rre/w, his dessert ; and along with this he devours — for ,nt would ne)t half express the eagerness of the action — he devours as much bread as would serve the household of an English family for a day ; and while he thus gormandizes, he will turn round to ve)u, and say, " Vnuii tinfrcs wainyz bemicoiip j>h(S 'icurism is' not unfrequently allied with gluttony. I have never seen the people of any country lay so great a stress upon their dinner as the French. Bon dhter is scarcely ever out of their mouths ; and not French men only, but French women also, married women at least, are entitled to be classed among the epicures. 1 ought not to be entirely ignorant of French propensities and habits, for I have spent altogether five years in France ; and I wish I possessed as much the power, as I liave the inclination, to draw a true portrait of French character. Although the amphitheatre and the Maison Carrie are the two most interesting of the remains of anti- epiity in Nismes,-there are several others deserving of a'visit ; but more interesting to the antiquarian, than to the traveller who is uninformed upon these matters. Among these the Tourmagne, from the Latin Turrls mwfna, and one of tlie gates of the city, are the only relics of which almost any thing is visible. The'former is one of the towers of the Roman wall, which was once flanked by ninety ; but this, it is believed, was the greatest of them, and meant for some end exclusively its own. There are many surmises as to what this end may have been ; but inipiiries of this kind are not only uninteresting, but as fruitless as they are useless. I was pleased in no small degree with the garden of Nismes, which contains many Roman remains, particularly baths, in a state of great perfection, and (jf va.st extent ; and many statues of emperoi-s and senators. But the chief attractions of the garden, are its pleasant shades and charming variety of fiowers, among which I luxuriated each of the three days 1 spent at Nismes, during some of the mornin<^ and evening hours. These days sufficed to gratify curiosity, and I left Nismes for Mont- pelier. CHAPTER XXIII. MONTPELIER — NARBONNE. Montpelier, its Climate and Reputation— Montpelier as a Residence— A .Tour de Fete— Api)arent Inconsistencies of French Cliaracter- Journey te) Narboiine— Cette, and its Manufactory of Wines — La Maladie Noir— Bezieres- French Brandy Manufactories — Narbonne — Xarbonne Honey— Fruit-Markets— Journey to Perpignan— The Me- diterranean— Perpignan and its Population— the Citadel — French Opinions of Prussia and England- Expenses in the South of France— Journey to Carcassone— " Hair- breadth 'scapes"— Quillan—Limoux— Champagne du Midi —Carcassone— Husbandry in Languedoc. The country between Nismes and Meintpelier is a wine, olive, and fruit country ; and although neither picturesque nor in any way remarkal)ly interesting, it was a great improvement ui)on the country lying to the east of it. Montpelier is seen at a consider- able distance before aiTiving in it, seated upon two hills, and certainly presents an impe)sing ajipearance. I reached this celebrated city before dinner, and established myself in the hotel da Mhil. I call Montpelier celebrated, because its name has passed into a by- word lor salubrity of climate. Every country has its MonfjK'I'wr. In England, several spots have claimed to be its Montpelier. Scotland has also its Montpelier. Nancy is the I^Iontpelier of the north of France ; Utrecht the Montpelier of Holland. Ireland, 1 have no doubt, has its Me)ntpelier ; and I almost think Norway and Sweden have their Montpeliers. All these lumours are surelv enoug h for the fame of one city , and Montpelier, the genuine Montpelier, must de)ubtless be deserving of its honours. Medical men, how- ever I believe, begin to doubt this ; and this doubt has had a material influence upon the prosperity of the town. In former times, about twenty or thirty years ago, two hundred p:nglish families were some- times resident there ; but since fashion, caprice, or experiment, have sent consumptive patients to die in Madeira or Naples, in place of Montpelier, that number is reduced to forty or fifty families ; and these, I believe, resort to Montpelier less for the sake of health than of economy. The Montpelier of the imagination, and the Mont- pelier of reality, are very different places. The fen-mer is a spot of charming retirement, surrounded by beauty and shade ; sweet and noiseless, except the rtiurmur of the Mediterranean, and the song of nightingales. The real Montpelier is a large, bus- tling, and rather noisy city, with fertility around it, but'scanty shade ; and the murmur of the sea only to be heard by a six miles' ride. But still ^Iont- pelier has many advantages as a residence. What- ever may hare' been the doubts that have sent the consumptive i)atient farther south, it is undeniable that the air of Montpelier is salubrious, possessing the mildness which belongs to a southern climate, and yet having its heat tempered by the sea-breeze. It is'also a cheap residence ; the more so, from the now diminished influx of strangers, 1 knew a gen- tleman in Montpelier, who gave sixty francs per month for a comme)dious second story of a house, well furnished. This w as not above 1 2s. per week ; f 72 MONTrELIER. [chap, xxiii. i tl and two well-furnished rooms may be obtained in twenty places for 10s. Living is not expensive, thoiijih not so cheap as lumse-rt-iit. Uai' iiw\ mut- ton an- from r»il. to (h\. per 11). Fish, of which there are sonjctiines twenty kinds in the market, ranges according to its kind, od sole usually costs about 5(1. Fruit and vegctahhs are both cheap, and good wine of St. George is sold at tifteen sous per boUle ; old St. (leorge of the best (luality costs two francs. .NFilk is of course dear, and butter only to he had in cold weather. The liot.'f (la Midi at Montpelier is one of the most excellent in the south of France. I counted on the UMe tVhote no fewer thun sixty dishes, exclusive of dessert. Tea a /' Anjl'i'^, of a most exquisite flavour, an j'iti' invites a I'renchman to join in its gaieties, he resolves to enjoy himstlf, and his resolution is carried into effect ; he is always ready to say, To-niRht— at least tonifrht be gay, Whatt'tT to-morrow bring. Mow extraordinary a riddle is French character ! Made uj) of contradictious, it defies the philosopher, and staggers the }»hrenologist, with all iiis skill in balances and neutralizations ; though, 1 confess, 1 think these seeming contradictions may be ex- j)lained more satisfact(jrily l)y the disciple of the seliet, in one passion — national vanity. It is nut the love of fiLrhtin'' that leads a French army from Paris to Moscow, but f.'i ijlinre. The phlloaophe who sits at his midnight lamj), caimot contemplate his triumph and discoveries, without mixing tiiem up with la illuirc of another kind — tlie scientific reputation of /(( >inimh- ndtlon. And when a Frenchman hurries to the Theatre Fran^alSy to witness tlie representa- tion of a comedy of Moliere, or a tragedy of lliicine, or Voltaire, a view to his own gratification is not the sole impelling motive ; he fancies — nay he is sure — that /d comtdie Fran^aise is the niost perfect in the world ; that there never was but one Racine, or one Voltaire ; ami tliat it is a duty to uphold and jtatronise that whii-h so nearly concerns the glory of his country. Tlu' national vanity of the Frencli is boundless and incurable. It enjhraces the whole range of the arts and sciences — all that in which men contend for j>re-eminence, or i)ride themselves in. It is this that carries a Frenchman to the u^ionU- mic de Mutflque, to listen to the worst music in the world — tiiis tiiat crowds the gallery of the French school of ])nintin!^, and leaves the Italuin school neglected — this that produces a thousand copies of ./A(n//,and not oneof Raphael, or Titian, or Murillo — this that endured the despotism of Louis XIV., be- cause he was tl'.e vainest of kings, and loved / is manufactured. Port, Sherry, Glarets, Burgundy, Ghampagui-, Hock, are all turned out from the manufactory of Gette, and sent to the different cities of Europe, to sup])ly cheap dealers, and economical wine-drinkers. These wines are, however, .sent in greater quan- tities to all other countries than England ; because the high duties liitherto payable u{)on wines ex- ported from Franci', have jjrevented the manu- factured port of Gette from entering the English market at a lower price than the genuine wine of Portugal. It is said, however, that Cette clarets and champagnes have found their way in large a<,n.eH, the road diverj^es to tlie rig^^t, and ari>roaehcs rca-piuniau by a lon<; str.u^h a. o- nue, through a flat c-uuntry, thiekly seattered Mth olives, willuus, and poplai-s ; au.l erossuvj; tlie on^ hmh'e over the .h-y bed of the httle nver le , 1 euteJed Perpignau, and alighted at the hotel de E^vrv body knows that Peq^i^^nan is the frontier town of Frauee, on its south-eastern ;>«""*l''^^->'- the kev, as historians say, on the side ot Spam . nut it is th\' passage of the l>yrenees, n..t th(^ possession of Perpi;;"an, that would open the way into !• ranee aud the great expense at whieh the fortitieations ot I'erpi-Mian have been recently put in order, seems, therel7)re, to be a very needless (.xp(>nditiire. At Perpignau, though the remotest u<.ok «.t he French empire, I foun.l that I was still ni hat country, to every corner of which Pans gives law. There 'was still' the same French air about every thiiK' I saw no amalgamation in character, usages, or dress, with the dress or usages of Spain hven the bonnets of the Perpignau ladies might have issued from a ma.i«zin <1k^ mml^s m 1 aris. 1 take the inhabitants of I'erpignan to be a contriving people ; for, besides the narrowness of the streets, Ihev have hit upon another simple device for ex- eluding altogether the mid-day sun. tloths ot some kind are suspended, like awnings, across the street, from the upper windows ; so that, m tli(>se ,,arts of the town where this is the ])ractice, the fiercest noon-da v sun may be set at dehance. 1 am surprised that so simple a di>vice as t iis Has not been adopted in other towns of the south ; and yet I never remarked it elsewhere than m 1 er- piijnan. „ , ^ ., I applied to the connnandant for leave to see the citadel, which he politely granted ; and attended by a soldier, I made the torn- of it. It is large enough to contain four regiments ; but the usual garrison is one only. To me, the citadel was chieHy inter- esting from the view it c<.mmands over Koussillon, and of the Eastern Pyrenees. The country is en- tirely level on every sist m.-^ai iv-^ v»i ...v , ., clnnip, OS er the most southerly provinces ot t ra ce. IJeef and niutt.m are 2Jd m the markets of I e - pignan, and almost every thing else is m the samt ratio of cheapness. Yet, notwithstanding, there is little or no ditlereuce in the expense of travelling. Is this, or is that a cheap country to travel m I is a quest^ion that need never be asked ; for, howevei much one country may ditfer from another m its expenses, to those who reside in it, they are nearly all alike to the trav(dler. I do not speak of the expense of transit, but of the expense ol mns. It a man sets out to make a tour ot Europe, he need scarcely make any variatmn m his calculation ot expenses for the ditterent countries through which he has to pass. . . , , . ^ I found here, that the information I had received at Narbonne, respecting a cross-road to ( arca.'^soiic through the outpnsts of the Pyrenees, was cn-rect ; and I learned, besid(>s, that it would be necessary to make a circuit from Uarcassone by 1 l>'>;;'"^^^;j;» order to reach the celebrated valleys of the I >re- ness, watered by the CJave and the Adour ; and 1 took advantage of the public conveyance, which travels the road three times a week. The country betwc-en Perpignau and Quillan is seareelv suserptible of cultivation, excepting in the neieauty 1 he outer ran-'es of the Eastern Pyrenees are but scantily covered with verdure ; and in the valleys iv^v trcvs I are to be seen excepting the olive. I noticed by the CHAP. XXIV.] THOULOUSE. 75 way-side — tlie first time I had seen it growing wild — the aloe ; and lavender, rosemary, and sweet- briar abundantly perfumed the air. This road is certainly better titted for a foot-passenger than for a carriage : it is not only bad, but in many places extremely dangerous. At one place it ascends by the side of a deep valley, with no parapet between it and a tremendous precipice ; and the ascent is so steep and so long, that six horses were unable to draw the carriage up. Several times the horses backed, and brought those who were within to the very verge of destruction. For my own part, I was on i'oot. At another time we were in still greater jeopardy. A l)ridge is thrown across a ravine of great dei)th ; the bridge has no parapet, and is only wide enough for a carriage to pass over. The de- scent to the bridge is rapid ; and the ascent, imrae- diatily upon crossing it, is so steep, as to seem, in approaching it, almost a perpendicular. The coach went rapidly down, and crossed the bridge ; but after the impetus liad carried the horses some little way up the steep, they stojiped. The coach went back ; and one half-foot from a right line would have thrown it down the precipice. Ui)on the bridge the horses bt>gan to be restive ; and here the situation of the inside-passengers was suthciently alarming ; for the carriage, being close to the edge of the bridge on both sides, it was impossible to step out. I was seated in the banquette, and, scrambling down be- tween the horses, 1 made my way out of danger. The passengers in the wtotide behind could also leave their places without difficulty ; and, tlius lightened, a new attempt was made to go forward, and it fortunately succeeded. Quillan is the only village between Perpignau and t arcassone. It is situated under a high stony mountain, and beside a mountain-stream, the banks of w hich ai-i- covered with vines, and spotted with wood. The road skirts this stream all the way to Carcassc^ne ; but before arriving there, we stopped an hour at Lhnoii.r, which I have already mentioned, when si)eaking of the wine manufactory of Cette. The wine of Limoux is called the ( 'haiiq>a(jne du Midi, and it well deserves the name. It is quite ecpial to the Champagne blane, drank in the Cafe de Parh; and costs one franc per bottle, in ]»lace of six. At Limoux, we liave left even the outer ridges of the Pyrenees ; and, approaching Carcassone, we pass through an open, better cultivated, and more fertile country. Carcassone' has the reputation of being a remark- ably pretty town. Its streets are straight and wide — too wide for its latitude— and adorned by several handsome fountains ; and there is also an extensive boulevard of lofty trees, parallel with the old Roman wall that still surrounds the town. I was amused at Carcassone by a novel demand. I had drank so plentifully at Limoux of the Cham- {•agne du Mia(l Kuropis the revival of letters had long been preparing' in the song^ of the trou- badonrs, which were sun<; at the floral punes. The rec«'nt and disastrons events of war have also <;iven to Thoulouse a new interest ; and, indejKiidently of these exclusive claims to the notice of the traveller w}jiel] this city possesses, it is a tine, lari;e, tiourish- inf,' place, situated in the midst of ahumlance, con- taining many fine edifices and reniarUahle objects ; and, even if it possessed no other distinction, it would be entitled to bo separated from the connnon catalogue of towns, merely because it is there that the watei-s of the Atlantic and the Mediterx-anean are united ; for it is at Thoulouse that the great canal of Languedoe is merged in the Garonne. 1 would counsel every traveller who arrives in Tlioulouse, to i)rovide himsi-lf with a Cicrroiw, unless he takes a pleasure in losing himself ; for I do not know any other city whose localities are so intricate. In whatever direction 1 wished to go from the Ad^V //*' rKnrofu', 1 found myself sooner or later in the niarket-i»lace, called la Piio' market-j»lace of Thou- louse, about seven o'clock on a sunnni-r\s morning, is a pleasure of no connnon kind. The display of fruit and vegetables is beautiful tc» behold. There are millions of i>eaches and nectarines, of a size that would strike an English gardener with astonish- ment. I found several of those which 1 bought measure ten inches in circumference. Tlu>re are millions of plums, of every shape, si/e, and colour — millions of pears- milhons of every fruit, and every vegetable, found within the temperate zone. P. are seen at their early aiul ^imple breakfast of peai-s and bread, after tlie'ir fruits have been ar- ranged ; others are busy shelling peas, or clipi)mg and laying out cab])ages, or wii-ing clean the yellow or orange-coated fxniinu- ' I'lu.^tres T(>u/oimrin!<. Here are placed, in niches, busts of all who have been born in Thoulouse, and who have rellected honour upon tin- place of their nativity. But through this hall we j)ass into one more inter- esting—the hall of the academy of the floral games. Every one has heard of the Hoial games of Thou- louse— the earliest institution in the hi>tory ol mo- dern Europe, for the promotion of any department of lettei-s. liy the registers of its history, it is known to have existed long before the year \'A2'A, and was therefore in its vigour at that period which is uMially denominated the dark ages— a term that ought to be better defined. When we think of the dark ages, we are apt to picture to oni-selvesa time when Goth and Vandal had trample!ication, of the most valuable works of an- tiquity, ])ut for the germ of all that romantic poetry of which the nations of modern Europe can boast. 1 1 was for the encouragement of this poetry that the floral games were instituted. The academy con- sisted originally of seven troubadours, who took the title i){Ml <]niimh< r, [M'liiift nenrx du d their sins, should devoutly visit the church of St. Satur- nin. Urban VIII. has gone farther; — he has ex- tojidod to all thoso who visit tho sovcn altars in this church, and who there pray for concord among tiie princes of the earth, for the extirpation of heresies, and the exaltation of the church, tlie same indulgonces which have been conferred ui)on those who visit the seven altars in St. Peter's at Rome. From the summit of the tower of this church, there is a fine and extensive view over the suiTound- ing country. The provinces of Languedoc and Oas- cony, the windings of tho (laronne, and the distant chain of the Pyrenees, forming its im[)osing featurt'S. The only other churclus which are worthy of a visit, are the cathedral church of St. Etieimo, and the church de la J> worthy of notice. In the vault of the Cordeliers, there was foraierly a number of dead bodies, so well preserved as almost to enmlate life. I men- tion this only, because, about forty years ago, a tragical event was connected with tliis vault. The son and heir of one of the first families in Thou- louse engaged, for a wager, to spend an hour at midnight among the dead bodies. He went ; b\it not returning, liis companions sought him, and found lum, in the inside of the oiten door, dead. The key of the vault was found in the door, and a part of' his clothes entangled with it. He had no doubt opened the door, and, upon end»>avonring to go forward, had found himself held — and fear had done the rest. The neighbourhood of Thoulouso would be found one of the cheapest places of residence in Europe. Within the city, every thing is about one-fourth part dearer than in its immediate vicinity, owing to the dues of entry. In the markets held in the neighbouring villages, meat is sold at {id. and 'Mi\. per lb.; fowls- are not more than lOd. a jmir ; a fine turkey costs but 2s. (Jd., or 3s. ; eggs, fruit, and vegetables are remarkably abundantand cheap ; and wine does not exceed DA. per bottle. The country is thickly covery contliti<»n. Everywhere, in the fields, the country-people were busy cutting, with the scythe, the straw of grain that had been already rea])ed. It is the practice, throughout the south- ern pr<»vinc(^s, to cut, along with the grain, only tho u]>per half of the straw, which is used as food for h*»rses ; and the inuhr part, which is coarser, is cut afterwards with a scythe, for the purposes to which straw is ])ut in other cf>untries. The [tecu- liar construc-tion of the farm-houses in this part of France produces a singular v ifect. To every one a pigeon-house is attached ; and as these are built liii;h and narrow, and with dome-sliai)ed roofs, and often surmounted by a cross, one might imagine the whole country to be covered with churches. 1 stop|)ed to breakfast at a small town, whose name 1 have forgotten, about four leagues from Thoulouse. The breakfast set down was so bad, and the price demanded so exorbitant, that I re- fused to i)artake of it ; but walked into the market- place, where 1 followed the exam])le of others, by juirchasing some ]iears and a loaf of excellent bread for breakfast. The nuirket-iilace was half filled with sheep exposed for sale. I incjuired the ])rice of a fat wether, and found it to be only six francs. All the way to Audi, the countrv contimus charm- iu'j;, and gradiuilly improves, not m fertility, for that is impossible, but in variety ; for the great ])lain of Thoulouse terminates long before reaching Audi ; and the road passes through a fine undu- latiuLT country of gentle hill and valley, both well cultivated and well wooded. The appearance of Auch is particularly striking, standing upon seve- ral elevations, and surrounded by wooil--not the sickly olive of Provence, but forest-trees, oak, elm, and ash ; and lu-arly in the centre of the town there is a magnificent promenade, upon an elevated ter- race of great exter.t, finely shaded, and command- in" an ext( nsive view over the siirrouiulinLT countrv. I passed more than two hours here after suppi-r, until it grew dark, enjoving one of the most balmy evenings that ever breathed from the skies of Uas- cony. A loni: iournev to 'J'arl cs awaited me next dav ; and 1 accordiiiL'lv left Auch before sunrise. 1 had expected, before reaching Auch, to have discovered the chain of the High or Central Pyrenees ; but in this expectation 1 was dis:ij)]ioiuted. Numl)ei's of inferior elevations, scattered over the j'lain, inter- cept the view of the I'yrenees, until within less than five leagues from Tarbes. There, near the village of Rabasteiis, from an elevatiou over which the road j)asses, the whoK" I'ange bursts into view. But, being at this time mid-day, when the atmosphere was dimmed by hot vaj>(»ur, the view I obtained was imperfect ; and it was not until my arrival at Tarbes, that 1 was able to gain a satisfactory view t)f tlu' majestic barrier that shuts out Spain from the rest of the world. | I have read in some book, that the most beautiful ! ])art of ev»'rv coimtrv is, where the mountains sink down into the j>lains ; and of this assertion, the situation of Tarbes olfei-s an excellent illustration. ( CHAP. XXV.] TARBES. 79 If I had never gone farther into the P}Tenees than Tarbes, I might have said that nothing can exceed the beauty of its neighbourhood. Tho charming plain that environs it — yet not altogether a plain — stretches to the foot of the mountains, rich in every production of this southern latitude, beatitifully divei*sified with wood, and watered by the mean- dcrin^s of the Adour,and of several lesser streams. The celebrated valley of Bagne'i'es opens to the left — that of Lourdes to the right ; while, to the south, apparently at l)Ut a few leagues distant, the l*'ir tlu Mull towers above the range of mountains that extend to the right and to the left, as far as the eye can reach. The town itself, anciently the capital of Bigorre, and well known in the time of Ciesar, is one of the prettiest towns of the south of France ; and here, for the first time, one perceives a slight a])i>roximation to the usages of that untrodden countrv that lies beyond the majestic barrier. This is visible in the dress of the women, who no longer cover their heads with bonnets, hats, caps, or handk»'rchieis, ])ut with scarlet scjuai-es of woollen stufi', trimmed with black, which they throw over the head and shoulder.s, something in the form of the Spanish nuuitilla ; but I noticed, that those who carried milk and butter to market, folded up the | ciquilit (for such is the name of this article of dress), and laying it in a si^uare of many folds upon the head, jilaced the can or jar upon it, and thus tripped along. It is from Tarbes that all the roads into the Pyrenees diverge. One leads to Bagneres de Lu- ciion ; another to Bagneres de Bigorre ; a third to Cauterets ; and a fourth to Lourdes, Argeles, Luz, St. Sauvier, and (Javarnie. The last road leads through the most central valleys, and mo.st into the heart of the mountains ; and, judging by my maps that Luz would be the most central pohit for liead-. It stands at the entrance of a defile, which leads into the centi\'\l valleys of the Pyrenees. The old castle frowns upon a high-wooded hill overlooking the town ; the rapid and crystal Gave sweeps below it. Through the defile are seen the high Pyrenees towering into the skies ; and the charming undu- lating plain I had passed through, stretches away towards Tarbes. In })ast ages, Lourdes was a place of some im- portance. It was fortified by the Romans, in the time of Ciesar ; and part of the walls, as well as two of the six towers which formerly existed, are yet visible, though in ruins. The castle wasalso a work of the Romans, and is still in such preservation that it is used as a state-prLson. It belonged to the Eng- lish after the treaty of Brittany ; and in 1304, made a vigorous and effectual resistance to the duke of Anjou, who laid siege to it at the head of the clUe of France. It was a short day's journey from Tarbes to Lourdes : but the country was too exquisitely beau- tiful to hurry through it, and I therefore delayed till the following day my journey to Argeles. 1 applied for leave to visit the chateau ; and having m ..M< .1 It t' V II 80 LOURDES. [chap. XXV. easily obtained it, I spent an hour or two among tlie woods which stretch over the lower half of the hill, and in delighting myself with the view enjoyed from the summit ovt>r tlu^ magnificcMit landscape that spread upon every side. The summit of one of the towers is called Pierre de l^AljU', from the follow- ing tradition : — Charlemagne laid siege to the castle, and, not being able to take it by assault, resolved to force it to a capitulation by starvation, Jiut Mirat, the lord of the castle, chanced to l»e an especial favourite of Notre-Danie du Puy (St. Pe), and she sent an eagle to the summit of the castle, carrying in its beak a large tish alive. Mirat, taking advan- tage of this miracle, sent the fish to Charlemagne, as a proof that the garrison was not without food ; and Charlemagne, kuowini; that a live fish could not be had on the top of the hill, perceived that it was a miracle : and, tinding that Mirat was under the protection of the Lady of Tuy, proposed less hard conditionsyaud that, in place of surrendering the castle to him, it should be surrendered to Notre- Dame du I'uy. It is strange that the Lady of St. Vdi should have taken so great a fancy to Mirat, who was not a Christian ; but the tradition adds, that he was afterwards baptized. In tlie evening I walked to the little lake called Lnr (h' Lonnh'^^ which lies about thre<'-(juarters (jf a league from the town. In size and general ap- pearance, and in the scenery by which it is sur- rounded, it may be aj»tly compared with (Jrasmere. I walked round it, gathering a nosegay of lavender and thyme, and returned to the inn at Lourdes after dark, or at least in deep dusk, to do infinite justice to a stew of pigeons and an omelet, and to sleep without the pest of either Heas or mus(juitos. Gray morning still hung in the defiles, though the mountain peaks were touched with the earliest sun- beams, when I entered the gorge that leads from Lourdes to Argeles. It is now for the tii-st time that the traveller is enclosed am(»n2 tlu; Pvrenees : the plains are left Vjchind, and the beauties that lie around and before him are of a wilder, though of a no less attractive kind. There is always a j»eculiar pleasure in entering mountains that have long been seen at a distance ; and I felt fully that elevation of s])irits which the entrance into a new country generally pnxluces. I had long been accustomed to think of the Pvrenees as a region where I should find that union of the l>eautiful, the pictures seen more of the Pyrenees, that I may compare Pyrenean with Al[)ine scenery. The defile, in leaving Lourdes, is extremely narrow, allowing scarcely more I'ooni than suffii-es for the Gav(S and tbe rerfect beauty. The valley of Argeles is about eight miles in length, and varies from one to three miles in breadth : and is bounded on both sides bv loftv mountains, far up whose sloj)es fertility dis[)utes the dominion with barremiess. The valley is not a level, but strewed with iiummenibl(> eminences, all wooded to the summit, excepting where here and there a bold rock lifts itself pvramidicallv above the trees ; and many I » ■ ' ► of these eminenci's are crowned w ith the gray ruins of ancient castles. All the lower part of the valley is rich in cultivation ; charming meadows lie along the banks of the Gave, which traverses it from fields ; and, ])es)des in- numt>ral>le pretty houses embowered in wood, and surrounded l)y verdure, no fewer than ten villages are counted in the short distance of two leagues. It was through this Kden that I walked to Argeles, where I resolved to remain some days, that I might visit th(> enchanting scenes and various valleys that lie in its neiirhbourhood. The auhenie wjis not tempting ; but tlu' pt'o[)le were civil, and the beds were clean ; and, if the ragouts were not prepared with the (iciuntn of L'de, they were good enough for a tniveller who never studied liim. Argeles is but a very small town, containing scarci'Iy a tliousand inhabitants. These, in all the towns of the Jlerty of those who cultivate it. Its produce, therefore, joine a separate valley ; one day exploring the pastoral beauties of the extrttim de Salles; an- other, tracing up to its origin the beautiful valley of Aucun ; but descriptions of these would be tedious. One peculiarity I particularly noticed. All the mountaineers in this part of the Pyrenees, profoundly venerate the Virgin of Pouey la ilun ; and in numy different sjiots in the valleys, 1 noticed that their devotion luul raised altars to this pro- tectress of the mountaineers. Her own peculiar chapel is placed ujton a little platform at the foot of the Pic d'Azun ; and there, at certain seasons, the inhaV)itants of the valleys resort to pay their adorations. CHAPTER XXVL ARGELES TO LUZ — AND ST. SAUVEUR. Route to PierrefUte— St. Savin — St. Orens— the Defile of Pierrefitte— The Cradle of bi:z — Matcliless Sceiieiy — St. Sauveui — Expenses and Comforts — Tlie Waters of St. Sauveiir. Aftkr spending four delightful days at Argeles, and in its neighl)ourhood, I left it to walk to Luz. Between Argeles and Pierrefitte, the valley conti- mies as fertile and as beautiful as l>etween Argeles and Lounles, l)ut it gradually contracts, crowding more beauties into a narrower compass. This journey is full of interest and beauty. About half a league or somow hat less from Argeles, I was at- tracted by the gfay walls of extensive ruins half way up a wooded hill ; and inmiediately afterwards I reached a small village called St. Savin, Both the villa'^e and the river take their name from a saint, who, in the eleventh century, inhabited a hermitage uiK)n these mountains ; but the ruin is older than St. Savin, It was originally a Roman fort, and was erected into a convent of Benedic- tines by Charlemagne, On leaving St. Savin, I noticed several ruins upon the side of the moun- tains on the opposite bank of the I'iver, aiul I nuide a detour accordingly. Crossing some meadows, and wading through the Gave, I reached Beaucens, a very small viila<:e overlooked bv an ancient castle ; and a little higher up the mountain, a chapel called Bidouret is situated, a famous rendezvous for the devout, where three women, bound by a voluntary vow, devote themselves to solitude, and to the care of this religious temple. From time immemorial the chapel has been under the guardianship of three women ; for when one dies, a third is immediately fiiund to complete the immber. 1 walked uj) to the chapel, and conversed with the solitaires, who were all three old. One of them had lived there thii-tv-four years. Thev said thev were supremely hai>i»v, for they knew they were under the protec- tion of Our Lady. From Beaucens, I walked up the side of the Gave, passing under the ruin of a monastery called St. Orens, situated upon the side of the mountain, and overhanging a deep wooded ravine. This saint was a Spaniard by birth, and, inspired with a love of solitude, he retired at an early age to the Pyre- nees, where he rivalled in his austerities the most famous anchorites of his day. Revered for his piety, he was offered the archbishopric of Audi, a distinction whicli he long refused ; till, having stuck a sapling in the earth, and prayed to God to have his will revealed, it immediately became covered with leaves. From St. Orens, 1 again waded through the Gave to regain the road to Luz, and soon afterwards I reached Pierrefitte. Here, the valley of Argeles branches into two, or rather ter- minates in two ravines ; one, running up to Caute- rets, and traversed by the Gave de Pont d'Espagne ; the other ascending the main stream of the Gave par ejrcellence, to Luz and Gavarnie. Beyond this |)oint, the character of the scenery through which we have passed, entirely changes ; the beautiful is lost in the picturesque and sublime. As I pur- jiosed passing the mountains from Luz to Caute- rets at a future time, 1 proceeded u]» the ravine that leads to Luz, I never look upon any new or peculiar scene, \vithout endeavouring to find a resemblance to some other better known scenes ; because in writing a record of a journey, such references and compari- sons at once place the scene before the reader. It answers all the purpose of an engraving. M. Ra- rnond, in his work, has conij)ared the defile leading from Pierrefitte to Luz, to the valley of the Reu.ss in Switzerland, for a description of which, 1 refer the reader to the first ])art of this journey. The resemblance is considerable ; but the valley of the Gave is narrower, wilder, more wooded, and the road is carried at a greater elevation above the river. The gorge of the Eisach, from Mount Bren- ner to Brixen, in the Tyrol, would aft'oid a more perfect comparison ; but both in England and Scot- land there are scenes that apjiroach to this valley, tliouirh thev do not rival it. if the mountains that rise from the valley of Matlock were eight or ten times higher than they are ; if the river were more a succession of falls and rai>ids ; and if the road were carried sometimes two or three hundred feet above the bed of the river, and at other times, when obstructed by tremendous precii)ices, were forced to cross the stream, the valley of Matlock might be compared to the valley of the Gave, In Scotland too, the gorge called Cartlane Craigs, might be said to resemble this defile, if a road were constructed above the stream half-way up the ])recii)ices ; if the banks above were twenty times hi'dier : and if the river were three or four times larger. The weather was intensely hot as I walked from Pierrefitte to Luz ; but so deep is the defile, tiiat the sun scarcely ever found its way into it. This road rivals in its excellence the road now con- structed up the bank of the Rtuss ; but in some respects, the nature of the valley of the Gave has created a necessity for more labour. For between Pierrefitte and Luz, the road crosses the river seven times, by marble bridges of one arch, which required no other foundation than the rocks from which the arches spring. , The defile of the Gave, such as 1 have described G I •t H' j I 'i « ■I '4 «2 ST. SAUVEUR. [chap. XXVI. it, extendi ahoiit tlirec leagues, and in this distance the rise is nearly a thousand feet. The defile then ismldeiily .-xpaii'ls, and ushers th.- traveller into that spot the nio>t beautilul that 1 liave ever found, either in the Pyrenees or in any t)ther country with whose beauties I have made myself acquainted. This spot eannut he called a valley; it is a hollt)VV anion<^ the mountains, truni which thn-e valleys, «n- ratln-r detlles, tlivcr-ct — one to Bareges, one to Gavarnie, and the third to Pierrefitte, which 1 have already travelled, i did not st(»p in tlu- little town of Lu/, hut went half a mile farther, to the haths of St. Sauveur, wlunv I lingered a fortnight, among the most beautiful, the most romantic, and the most subhme scenes that nature ever brought into fellowship. It is at Luz that tlie union of the beautiful, the picturestiue, and the sublime, is complete, lu no other part of the Pyrenees, and nowhere else in Euroi)e, have 1 found it. It was here, and here only, that my e.vpectations of Pyrenean scenery were fully and delightfully realised. 1 must at- tempt a description of the lioUow of Luz, for there is nothing in any other ccumtry to which I can liken it. Figure to yourself a ci'adle, or hollow, about two miUs long, and about one mile broad, the sides of this cradle being the slopes of mountains, which rise from six to seven thousand feet above its level. This little hollow, which cannot be called a jilain, because it contains within it some little eminences, is an enamel of the freshest and most beautiful hues in nature ; the most living green is mingleil with the rich golden of the ripe harvest, and the pale straw ot the later grains. Oak, ash, fir, and other trees, various in their tints as in their names, are scattered, single or in clumi)s, over th<' little fields; aiul the two (Javes, one from Gavar- nie, and the other from Parcges, unite their streams, and How in graceful curves through this little Eden. But these features of beauty and h-rtility are not confined to the hollow. Here the charm of a south- ern climate robs the mountain-sides of their heath and fern, and clothes them with cultivation. Two miles up the mountain-sides, round and round the cradle, the yellow harvest clie([Uers the landscape. At elevations, which, in more northern countries, would be abandoned to the heath and the fir, waves the golden grain ; and both the hollow and the slopes of the mountains, as far up as cultivation extends, are scattered with houses, and cottages, and villages. All this is beauty — and of the high- est order. 1 come now to the picturescjue. Upon one side of this valley, on an eminence entirely separate from the mountain, stands th(» town of Lu2 — its buildings and its church rise out of the wood. xVnd upon another separate eminence, still higher, are seen the extensive ruins of the castle of Siiltite Marie. At the southern side of the cradl(% the defile of the Gavarnie opens — a gorge pre- senting every feature of the pictures(iue ; the sides are precijiitous rocks, hanging thick with wood ; a romantic bridge spans the stream ; and al)out four hundred feet above the river, embosomed in oak, and standing upon precij)ices, is seen the irregular range of buildings which constitute the baths of St. Sauveur. But the features of sublinuty are still to be added. These are the lofty sunuuits of the highest of the Pyrenees ; jagged rocks and snow-i»eaks, which, from various s|)ots, and parti- cular! v from tlu nuns of Sainte Marie, are seen rising behind the nearer mountains, and forming a wider anti still more sublime amjihitheatre. When I walked up to St. Sauveur, m searcli of ac- conunodation, 1 found this difficult to be obtained. About 200 strangers were already there ftion upon it :— " Je vols aths of the Pyrenees. Meat is 8d. peril). ; a fowl. Is. ; eggs two for a i)enny ; wine, of the most ordinary kind, L^ sous per bottle ; fruit and vegetables both dear, and all kinds of grocerii's double the sum they cost in Fjigland. The usual mode of living hei'e is, to make an agreement < M CHAF. XXVII.] THE PYRENEES. 83 with a traUeur, who sends out dinner to the different houses — good or indifferent, according to the j)rice paid for it ; but for less than three francs a toler- able dinner cannot be had — and even for this sum it is miiH^rre. But all these n»attei"s are unim- portant to those who visit the baths of St. Sauveur. Only invalids, who find in the waters an equivalent for everything ; or travellers like myself, who seek the society of nature, visit St. Sauveur. It is at Bplication. The temperature of the four si)rings of .St. Sauveur ranges from 20 to 32 of lleau- nmr. Besides those invalids who, from the less obstinate nature of their disease, have no occasion for a stronger apjilication than the waters of St. Sauveur afford, St. Sauveur is frequented by per- sons whose complaints require the more powerful waters of Bareges, but who go first to St. Sauveur as a preparatory measure — which is considered safer, and even more effectual, than at once to apply the strouirer remedv. If 1 were to visit this part of the Pyrenees again, I would reside at Luz, in place of St, Sauveur, for many reasons : but the two principal of these are, that at Luz one meets no invalids ; and that lodging may be found there at one-half the expense. St. Sauveur is perha{>s more exfjuisitely beautiful ; but the beauties of this neighbourhood are .so little .scat- tered, that it is almost a matter of inditterence from what j)oint one starts in search of them. There is one great convenience — at least so it might be esteemed by many — to be had at St. Sauveur and at Luz — the most excellent little horses, pretty, gentle, and sure-footed, nmy be had at the easy rate of 2s. Gd. per day ; or a three hours' ride costs only Is. 3d. CHAPTER XXVII. THE PYRE.NEES. Situation and Extent of the Pyrenees — HeiKl't of the Sum- mits — Mines — Valleys of the Pyrenees, and their Produc- tions — Roads — Comparison between the Scenery of Swit- zerland and tlie Pyrenees, and Reasons why the Pyrenees are little visited. I WILL dedicate this chapter to a few general state- ments respecting the Pyrenean range, and to some account of its inhabitants. The Pyrenees are situated between 42 and 44 degrees north latitude. Their general direction lies from east south-east to west north-west. The chain commences on its eastern flank, at a little dibtauce from Lap de Creuxy to the south of I'ort Vi'ridren on the Mediterranean, and touches the At- lantic at Cape de Figuera, near Fonlarabia, in the Spanish province of Guipuscoa. But although it is only the range of mountains which sepai'ates France from Spain that has obtained the name of Pyrenean, the same chain continues westward, until it sinks into the ocean at Cape Finisterre, in Galicia. The mountains of Biscay, which separate that province from Navarre and Old Castile, and the mountains which divide the Asturias from Leon, are all parts of the same range that rises out of the Me- diterranean. The length of the chain which se- })arates France from Spain, is nearly 270 miles ; and its greatest breadth, from Tarbes to Balbastro, in Arragon, is sixty-nine miles. At both extremi- ties of the chain, the breadth becomes less. The height of the Pvrenean range is as various as that of the Alpine chains. It is in the centre of the range that the highest elevations are found — the height gradually declining as it approaches either sea. The names of the departments, indeed, l^artly point out this ; for the central part of the chain is called" High Pyrenees ;" while the extension of the range east and west is deno- minated " Low Pyrenees," and " Eastern Py- renees." In each of these lower ranges, however, there is one commanding mountain — the Canigou, in the Eastern Pvrenees, and the Pic du Midi du Pau, in the Low Pvrenees. The elevation of the High Pyrenees may be said to range from 7000 to 11,000 feet — exceeding, therefore, in altitude, any of the Alpine ranges, excepting the Obcrland Berno'is, and the uisulated summits of Mount Blanc and ]\Iount Rosa. I shall note down, in this place, the altitude of some of the principal mountains in the JJautes Pj^nnteif, that the reader may be able to form some idea of the relative elevation of Alpine and Pyrenean ranges. Feet. Pic d'ArriouGrand .... 10,08G Pic de Vignemale ... . 10,32(> Mont Perdu 10,482 l^ic de Nouvielle ... . 9,890 Pic du Midi de Bigorre .... 9,721 N. — There are many Pics du Midi among the Pyrenees ; but the Pic du Midi de Bigorre is generally considered the Pic du Midi pur excel- lence — partly because it has been more fre- quently measured, and partly because it is somewhat higher than its rivals. I have stated the measurement laid down by M. H. Reboul. M. Dangos and M. "N'idal make it somewhat higher; and M. Ramond a little lower. Feet. 0,936 9,990 9,900 10,584 10,922 Pic Long ..... Pic de Biedous .... I'ic de Grabioulles .... Pic Poseto .... La Maladetta (in Spain) (accuni/'d) . N. — This is the highest mountain in the Pyrenees. Besides these mountains, there are eight others, exceeding 9000 feet. There are, therefore, in the JIautes Pyrenees, one mountain w ithin a few feet of 11,000 high, four exceeding 10,000, and nine ex- ceeding 9000 feet in elevation. Now, upon refer- ring to the topography of Switzerland, it will be seen, that there is no concentration of so many ele- vated mountains. The Oberland Bernois includes six mountains exceeding 10,000, and four of these reaching 12,000 feet; and the Pennine Alps con- G 2 '.r'l .1 !" I I J!4 THE PYRENEES. [chap. XXVII. tain three niountiiins exceeding i:i,<)00 foet ! but there is DO eoneentration «>f summits eqnallinti in ahitude those of the Ihnilcs PynnC-es. Naturalists recof^nise, in tlie materials of tlie Py- renees, three kinds of rock— granite, seiiist, and calcareous stmie. Iron, coi)|)er, zinc, and lead, are all f(»und in the I'yrenees ; hut, as it would appear, not in sufKeit lit ahundance to repay the labour of workint; mines, with the exception of iron. We learn, however, fn.m history, that the I'yrenees have not been always so nii,';,^ardly ; for it is re- c«»rded, that the Pluenieians, and after them the Cartha;,'inians and the Konums, extracted great riches from these mountains. The only indication of gold in the Pyrenees is in the sands of some rivulets ; and silver is not f(»und excepting along with lead or copjier. The veins of marble are nu- merous and valuable. One, a white marble, is said to e(|ual the uiarbles of ( arnara ; and for its dis- covery, a gold medal was some years ago atljudged t(. M.'du Mcge, by the Society for the Encourage- ment of National 'industry. Tlu- haron Dietrieh lias enunu-i-ated, in that part of the Pyrenees lying betwet-n the sea and I'oix, niiu ty-eight mines of copper, a hundred and eight mines of iron, and ninety-nine mines of lead. The extent of country exairnned by the l)aron Dietrieh, does not compre- hend above one-fourth j'art of the Pyrenees. 1 shall at present (•(•ntine myselt to the JIautes PijrhnuK, on many aeeonnts the most interesting part of the ehain, and venture a few general obs«-r- vations, desci-i]»tive of their jirineipal features. The JIaafi'S l^iirnuii^ contain three chains of valleys, running north and south, each watt r<(l hy a river descending from the mountains into the plains of F' ranee. These are, the chain which is watered by the (Jave de Pan, consisting of the valleys of Lourdes, .Xrgehs, Lu7., and (iavarnie ; tlH> chain watered by tin' Adoui-, including the valleys of C'anipan and St. Mari(> ; and the chain watere(l by the (iaroime, wliii-h of the (Jaromie ; but, eM-e|)t- ing the valley of Aure, the Neste traverses ravines rather than valleys. These are all the valleys con- tained within \\\v /Ixiitty I'lirtniiif, excepting a few lateral valleys, such as thos<' of Harcges, Aucun, and Heas ; but these are also ravines, n(»t valleys. The whole of tlie intermediate space between these valleys is mountain, containing no doubt many spots, wliich, in common parlance, might be called mountain- valleys, but which are only hollows, wa- teiH'd perhaps by scanty rivulets, and susceptihle of but very trifling cultivation. The only Pyienean valleys in which grain is the staple produce, are those of Lourdes, Argeles, Luz. ( "anipaii, and Aure. In all the- lesstr a alleys, and even in the narrowest defiles, some grain is reared ; but the l*yrene«'8 may be called a pasture district, this so greatly ex- ceeds the produce of any other description. There are only three roads that traverse tlu- I'yrenees — 1 do not mean bridle-roads, but carriage-roads. These are, the road from Tarbes to Luz, from TarV)es to Bagncres, and from St. (Jaudens to Bagncres de Luchon. All the communications running east and west are only bridle-roads, or foot-paths. None of the carriage-roads leading into the Puvnees ])ass through the mountains into Spain, though pedes- .___ trians, lioi-semen, and cattle, may enter Arragon at several [loints. If I were asked, whether 1 preferred the scenery of the Pyrenees or of Switzerland, 1 slutuld feel myself at a loss for a rej>ly ; and yt t, altlu»ugh in many resj)ects essentially ditt'creiit, they will (U)ubt- less admit of a comparison. They have each their own peculiar charms ; and it will depend upon tin; peculiar turn of the traveller's min<'s, that the slight inferiority, in the altitude of the summits of the latter above the level of the sea, is more than compensati-d by the lower elevation of the level from which the mountain immediately springs. None of the highest Swiss mountains sju'ing from the lakes, which are of comparatixely low elevation, but from the ui»j>er valleys ; and these are so elevated, that the real altitude of the mount:iins above the level of these valleys is very different from their height abov(^ the levi'l of the si-a. 'J'lie ele\ation of the valley of (irindelwald, for example, is between iUMK) or 4(K»0 feet, ami the Engadine is e\t n higher. But the village of Luz is considerably under *J(M)0 feet above the le\ el of the sea. (iri|», at the foot of the Pic du Midi d<> Bigorre, is 500 feet lower ; and the village of (Javarnie, although greatly more elevated than either of these, is yet nearly 10(H) feet lower than (irindelwald. To the real as well as apjiarent elevation, therefore, of the mountains which rise from these spots, must be added the difference be- tween the elevations from which they spring, and the elevations from which the Swiss mountains rise. If, however, the palm in sublimity should, not- withsumding, he due to Switzerland, the imjiartial adjuster of the claims of the Aljis and P\reiiees must call to the aid of the latter, that union of the beautiful and the jdcturesfpie with the sublime, which I have already rland, the importiint fact, that the Pyrenees are destitute, or almost destitute of lakes. These, next to its mountains, are the great charm of Swit- zerland, and must, 1 suspect, cast the balance in favour of that country. In truth, the traveller, who is desirous of seeing all the various charms of niountain scenery, tiiust visit botli Sw itzerlaiid and the i'vreiiees. lie must not content himself with believnig, that, having seen Switzerland, he has seen all that mountain scenery can offer. This would be a false belief. lb' who has traversed Swit- zerland throughout, has indeed become familiar with scenes which cannot jx-rhaps be equalled in any other country in the world ; and he need not travel in search of hner scenes of the same onh'r. Hut scenes of a difl'erent ord(>r — of another cha- racter — await him in the Pyri'iiees ; and, until he has looked upon these, he has not enjoyed all the charms which mountain scenery is capable of dis- closing to the lover of nature. lint however worthy of attracting the foot of tlic traveller are the valleys of the Pyrenees, these will probably never be the fretpient resort of tlie tourist, or divide with Switzerland the choice of the travel- ler ; because access to tin; Py nances is more difli- cult, — and because there acconimo(hition for the traveller is worse than indittVrent. To reach the Pvreiiees, one must either travel rtve hundred miles from Paris, through an uninteresting country, or arrive at Bourdeaiix by sea ; neither of which places could be said to inter into a journey of pleasure : whereas, in going to Switzerland, one has only to cross the Nethtn-lands to Coli-gne, and step into a boat. And besides, Switze'rlami is the high road to Italy. Ti-avellers would go to Italy even if there were no Switzerlaii«l ; ami, therefore, Switzerland receives the visits of the Italian tourist, as well as of those who visit it solely on its own account. But the Pyrenees cannot be "included" in a tour, or taken on the way to some other place. The ti-avellcr who visits the Pyrt-nees must journey there (,ry//-c.--, unless he jturposes visiting S[»ai!i ; aiul, even in that case, the JI<(ufigiian or by liayonne. As for the comparative comforts whit-li the tra- veller may expect in visiting Switzi-rland or the Pyrenees, the great inferiority of the latter, in this respect, will always prevent the ingress of strangers. Even if nothiii'' were to be seen in Switzerland, one might be recompensed for a journey tlier*', by the unapjiroached excellence of the inns. Comfort, civility, abundance, cleanliness, good Hresif wanted, excellent beds, unexcej)tionablo cookery, bring the Swiss inns as near {uriection as possible. Rut the very reverse of all this is found in the Pyrenees. With the exception of one or two hotels at Binjncres osi- tive disease) an excuse for seeking amusement. Rut Bagneres is not in the Pyrenees, or at least it is \x\mu their outskirts ; and those who reside at Rag- neres seldom make longer excursions than allow a return to the comfortable dinners at FirserUis. With the exception of those visiting the Pyrenees for the sake of the baths, I met only one English traveller. He had come from Paris ; and the mo- tive that influi-need his journey was singular enough. He said he wished to reach .some of the passes where he might have a view into Spain, and walk a httle way within the boundary, that he might be able to say he had been there. " And why not extend your journey into the country ?" 1 asked. " Oh," says he, " nobody goes there." This reply was the tii-st thing that led me to entertain the project of travel- Ung through Spain — a project which, in the following year, I carried into eflect. CHAPTER XXVIII THi: I.MIAIUTANTS 01" THE I'VIUCNKKS. Manner of Life of the Pyrenean Mountaineer— His Winter and Suinnier Habitations — His Industry — Dress— Hospi- tality— Morals — Sliort buuunary of the History and present State of tlie Cagots. ExiiADiNG the hihabitants of the towns, the moun- taineers of the Pyrenees are shepherds, and at the same time jiroprietors both of lantl and of cattle ; but their condition is far inferior to that of their bro- thers of the Aljis. This is chiefly attributable to the small suj)ply of milk yielded by the cattle of the Pyrenees, in comparison with those of the Alps, a fact that must arise from the less abundant and less nutritious vegetation of the Pyrenees. It is diffi- cult, therefore, for the inhabitant of these mountains to improve his condition. His dairy is either con- sumed by his own family, or its juoduce is taken to the nearest baths, to purchase the necessaries of life. He has no superfluous produce to com ert into cheese, like the Swiss peasant. The Pyrenean mountaineer is a patient and indus- trious m;;n ; but it is his lot to maintain a constant struggle w iili the btso'in de clrre. During the w intir, he lives with his family in the village or hamlet of that valley in which his lot has been cast ; but, when snows pass away from the mountains, he removes to a cabin in one of tlu- upper valleys, where his cattle have been left during the w inter, under the care of a single herd. Around these summer-habitations, he and his family cultivate th«> ground, to insure against the winter a provision both for the cattle and for themselves. Warm nooks are selected, which are cleared, and sown with rye or other grain. A little potato-land is also allotted ; but his chief care is directed towards the meatlows, the produce of which is intended for the nourish- ! 1 %\ -4, S*^i. I si* 4i' I it ;iv 14 >. M; 86 THE PYRENEES. [chap. XXVIII. ment of the cattle during winter. These summer- habitations aiv always selected in some of those upper valleys, where arivukt may he commanded for the purj)Ose of irrigation, and where the slopes lie conveniently fur takint,' advantai^e of it. Innu- merable small ^^rooves are nia'le in the land, and the water is eonv.>yed at pleasure to one part or another, by merely turnin;; the couree with a tiat stone or a slate. While the mountiiineer and his faniilv are thus einployi(ldurint;thesuninurn\oi!t]iH, in proviilini,' for the necessitiis of the winter, the cattle are n(»t permitted to feed witliin the range of the iiTigated meadows, but are driven up into the highest parts of the mountains ; and tlie man who accompanies them eonstruets a shelter with stones and furze. 1 shall afterwards have occasi(»n to lead the reader into some of these liabitations. It must be a wretched existenee that («f the shepherd, who, when the winter a]>proaches, ami driv«s the family into the lower valley, retires into the cabin along with his cattle, there to {>ass alone the dreary days and nights of winter, surroumled by snows and tem}H'Sts. It is thus the moimtaineer of the Pyre- nees sjx'uds his days amojig seeiics in which he feels a mountaineer's pride ; and trovision for the cattle has been exhausted, and the cattle jjerishing ; the herd is also necessarily cut otf from nourish- ment. Another lesser calamity is of yearly n-cur- rence. The soil which is allotted to the production of grain is carried away by the winter torrents, lea\ing only the bare rock beneath ; but the industry and patii'iit toil of the mountaineer sujiply this loss. He carries soil in baskets from the lower \ alley to form again his little arable possessi»)n, and to rear upon it the rye or the tiax that help to sup{)ort his family during the winter, or to furnish them with winter's employment. A Pyvenean peasant who possesses titteeii eows is considered an opulent man ; but few j)Ossess so great a number. The whiter-habitation of tla' I'yrenean consists of only two apartments. The furniture is limited to articles of mere nec^^'ssily ; and in the greater mnn- ber of cottages, the windows are without glass. Externally, these houses seem better than they really are. They are generally roofed with slate ; and this gives to them an air of respectability wliieh is rarely confirmed by a visit to the interior. The inhabitant of the Tyn-nean valley is, in every ! tiling, more juimitive than the Aljtine mountaineer. ; In his nourishnunt and dress, he retains the pas- i toral simplicity ; and, 1 might add, in his morals i too. Bread ot rye (>r barley, and milk, and a sort \ of paste made of Indian corn, are the hal/itual diet ! of the Pyreiiean jjeasaiit ; and those who are in ' comparatively easy circumstances, salt some kid's i llesh, and scmietimes a pig, for liigh days ami holi- I davs. In com|>arison with the comforts which a ! })easant of ( irindelwaid or the ( Jrisons draws around ' iiini, thi>se of the 1*\ renean peasant seareelv raise him abo\e the ijradc of a needy man ; for not only are the articles of his subsistenc(> of the simpKst 1 kind, but even in the <|uanlity of theso is he limited. i In the dress of the Tyrenean peasiint of both sexes, the usages of Spain have been adopted. The men cover their heads with a small bonnet, and their bodies with a large cloak, which descends to the very feet. The women throughout all the Py- renean valleys ai'c clothed in the same way as at Tarhes ; the'y either wear the capulet, or short hood of scarlet — or the cajiucin, a cloak of black — both thrown over the head and shoulders ; and most commonly they have sandals uj)on the feet, except- ini: in the mountains, where the jxasant generally walks with naked feet. The mountaineers of the Pvrenees are a hands(mu'r race than the Alpine peasantry ; but the dress of the former is less adapted to display the figure. The besetting sin of the Swiss— greed, I have never found among the Pyrenees. The inter- course of the nKumtaineer with strangers has hitherto been too limited to dull his natural feelings of justice, kindness, and generosity ; and I have generally found it difficult to prevail upon an inha- bitant of a I'yrenean cabin, poor as he is, to accept any remuneration for his liosjtitalities. Crime of every description is rare in the Pyrenees ; theft is very unfretiueiit, and murder alti)gether unknown. No ti-aveller need hesitate to traverse every part of the French Pyrenees alone and unarmed. In speaking of the inhabitants of the I'srenees, I mu>-t not overl(H)k that extraordinary race, which has baffled the historian in his vain endeavours to account for its origin, and which has furnished matter of interest both to the novelist and the tra- veller. Jt is pred)alde, that many readei-s of this volume may never have heard of the Cagot.s, and that othei-s may know only of the existence of such a race ; and although, in presenting some details respecting this extraordinary people, I di.sclaim any pretension to novelty or original elucidation, yet, having travelled among their valleys, and seen their huts and themselves, 1 feel that it would be an un- pardonable omissinn, were I to omit availing myself of even the common sources of inf(»rmation,in order that I mav include, in this volume, a short account of the ( agots. The Cagots are found in several of the more secluded valleys of the Pyrenees, jiarticularly in the lateral valleys that branch from the valley of Bareges, Luchon', and Aure. So sedulously do the Cagots keep aiiart from the rest of their fellow- men, that one might travel through the Pyrenees without seeing an individual of the race, unless juiry were s[»(cially directed towards them. It CHAP. XXVIII.] THE PYRENEES. 87 UK) was not until 1 expressed a desire to the guide who attended me in my excursions from St. Sauveur, to see one of the race of ( 'agots, that my curiosity was gnitihed. This was one of the lateral valleys that runs to the right, between P>arcges and the Tour- nialet,a valley traversed by lU) roatl,and which only leads to the lac d'e^caihous. The Cagot is know n by his sallow and unhealthy countenance— his ex- pressit)!! of stu]ii(lity — his want of vigour, and re- laxed appearance — his imj>erfect articulation — and, in many cases, his disposition to yo'ltrts. If we were to credit the assertion of the novelist, we should reject <»ne of tlu-se characteristics, or at least say, that the stupidity of the ("agot is only apparent. It is possible, that a knowledge of his degraded condition, and the contempt, if not avei-siou, w ith which he is reersecutions, pursuing a desi)ised and hated nice, were directed against the same people, whe- ther' found in Brittany, La Vendee, Auvergne, or the Pyrenees. We fiiid the parliament of Rennes interfering in their favour, to obtain them the right of sepulture. In the eleventh century, we find the Cagots of Beam disposed of by testament as slaves. The priests would not admit them to confession ; and, by an ancient act of Beam, it was resolved that the testimony of seven of them should be equi- valent to the evidence of one free citizen ; and even so late as the fifteenth century, they were forbidden to walk the streets barefooted, in case of infection being communicated to the stones ; and upon their clothes was impressed the foot of a goose. Yet all these marks of hatred are unaccounted for. No re- cord has descended to us, by which the cause of this persecution may be explained ; and we are left to guess at the origin of that reprobation which has followed this rejected people from the earliest times, and in whatever country they have been found.— M. Ramond, in his disquisition upon this subject, says, " The Cagot^s of all Fnince have a common origin. The same event has confined them all in the most remote and desert spots ; and, whatever this event mav be, it must be such as will account for every thing— it must be great and general- must ha've imj)ressed at once upon the whole of Fnince the same sentiments of hatred— have marked its victims with the seal of the same reprobation — and have disgraced the race, and all its subdivisions, with the opprobrium of a name which every wliere awakened the same ideas of horror and contera;)t." This is just reasoning ; but we are as far as ever from the event which has fixed hatred and oppro- brium upon the dispersed race of Cagots. Some have held, that they are the descendants of lepers, and, as such, exiled from the society of others ; but to this, M. Ramond replies, that although lepers have been exiled or confined, there is no record of their having ever been sold or disposed of by testa- ment. Others have contended, that the Cagots are the descendants of the ancient Gauls, brought into a state of slavery by the peoi)le who drove out the Romans ; but to this hypothesis, also, M. Ramond answers that, under the dominion of the Goths, the Gaul and the Roman were never reduced to a state of slavery ; and he rightly adds, that the tyranny merely of a con([ueror enslaving the vanquished, would not account for tlie origin of the Cagot ; be- cause the feeling with which the Cagot has been regarded, has not been merely that of contempt, but of aversion, and even hori'or. But the explanation attempted by >L Ramcnid seems to me to be alike inetticient to explain the origin of this hatred and persecution. He says, " Such victory as may have terminated the conflict of two nations equally fero- cious and inflamed against each other by a train of rivalry — the invasion of one barbarian puni-shed by another barbarian— the reaction of the oppressed against the oi>prcssor— at last completely disarmed — bloody combats — disastrous defeats — such only could have been the sources of the hatred and fury which could have given rise to miseries Hke those which we behold." But it appears to me, that such events as M. Ramond snppo.ses would lead only to oppression, and perhaps slavery, but not to aversion or horror ; and that even the deadliest feelings of hatred, engendered from such causes, would not have out-lived the generation which first imbibed them. But even the ex]>lanation of M. Ramond, if satis- factory, would still leave the orighi of Cagots and Cagot 'persecution as dark as ever ; for, among the numerous hordes of barbarians who pushed one another from their c(mquests, and among the endless and confused strife of battles which destroyed, mingled, and separated the difterent races, how can we determine, whether Alans, or Suevi, or Vandals, or Huns, or Goths, or Francs, or Mooi-s, or Saracens, were that peculiar race, whose remnant has de- scended to these days with the mark of persecution and hatred stamped upon it ? It would prove to most readers an uninteresting detail, were 1 to go over the arguments of M. de Gebelin, who contends that the Cagots are the re- mains of the Alans ; or of M. Ramond, who believes them to be a remnant of the Goths. Nothing ap- l)roaching to certainty, scarcely even bordering upon probabilitv, appeai-s in the reasoning of either. The Cagots may have been Alans, or they may have been Goths' ; but there seems to be nearly the same reason for believhig them the remnant of one as of the other people. If this miserable and proscribed race should, indeed, be all that remains of the Gothic conciuerors of half tlie world, what a lesson for pride is there ! I cannot conclude this hasty sketch better than in the words of M. Ramond, who, whatever his l)hilosophical i>owers may be, is evidently a kind- i&l J#4j 1 Um% I* Ml' W m) BAREGES. fCHAP. XXIX. hearted and observing man, and who possessed the best of all oj)portunitHS for judi^inu: of the people whifh were tlu; object t)f his imiuiry. " I have seen," says he, " some families of these unfortunate creatures. They are gradually ap- ])roat*hiiig the villa^'cs fi-oni wliieh prejudice has banish. (Uheni. The side-d..ors by which they were fonnerlv obliged to enter the churches are useless (M. llamond"might have said shut up, for so they are in general), and some degree of pity mingles, at lenu'tli, with the conten»pt and aversion which they fonnerlv inspired ; yet 1 have been in some of their retreats, where they still fear the insults of prejudice, and await the visits of the compassionate. I liave found among them the poorest beings per- hajts that exist upon the face of the earth. I have met with brothers, who l(»ved i-ach other with that tenderness which is the most }>ressing want of isolated men. 1 have seen among them women, whose ati'ection had a soi.iewhat in it (»f that sub- mission and devotion which are inspired by feeble- ness and misfortune. And never, in this half-anni- hilation of those beings of my sjiecies, could 1 re- cognise, without shuddering, the extent of the power which we may exercise over the existence of our f^.ll^)W— the narrow circle of knowledge and of en- joyment within uliich we may confine him — the smallness of the sp.here to which we may reduce his usefulness.'' CHAPTER XXIX. BARE<;KS — TIIK VALLEYS OF IIASTAN AND CAMPAN. The Valley of Harojjcs— Devastations of the Gave dc IJastaii — Baref^es, its liihahitaiUs ami its Waters— Journey to the Lake d'Oncet- Old Usages— Tiie Milk of the Pyrenees- Mountain Scenes— The Lake d'Oncet— Mountaineers— Dillicult Path— The Tourinakt— Character of the Valley of Campan. Aftkr having been a few days at St. Sanveur, I left it upon a visit to Ba regies, 'the Fkdu J/ t^i, and JHiKineres. My intention was to breakfast at Pareges, to "ascend the l'i<- du Midi, and descend on the other side to Bagneres bt-fore night. The guide assured me this was possilde ; but, as the distance and fatigue of such a journey would necessarily be great, I t in hiring a horse, to carry me as far as the nature of the road would permit. 1 left St. Sauveur at five o'clock on a still, gloomy morning, which tome appeand rather threatening; but the guide assiu-ed me the day would turn out fine ; and I, of course, trusted to his su[)erior know- ledge in such matters. Passiug through Luz, and round the monticule upon which stands the castle of St. Marie, 1 entered the valley of Harcg*'S, or, as it is more generally called, of Bastan. The first part of the road is agreeably shaded by fine linden- trees, and sloping meadows rise from the valley ; but about a mile from \aia all trace of beauty and verdure is lost ; antribu- Uou of the watt rs, which are all under the inspection of government officers, the utmost regularity is practised, and the strictest justice dealt out. Bare<»-es is onlv inhabited during the summer months, or the season of the waters, as it is called. This season commences in the end of May, and ends in the beginning of October. July and August are the months in which there is the greatest concourse of strangers ; and there are then not fewer in ge- neral than HOO persons, exclusive of those who are in the military hospital. During the winter, a few keepers are appointed by governmiiit to reside in the place, in order to prevent the occupation of the CHAP. XXIX.] VALLEY OF BASTAN. 89 J houses by the mountaineers. "But it not unfre- quently hapi)ens, that when the torrent or^ ava- lanclie has made a breach in a habitation, it be- comes the domicile of a bear or a wolf. Some parts of the street are every winter destroyed, particu- larly the house of chief resort, the Oife an Vamlia/l, whi'ch is exposed to the torrent, and is every spring rebuilt. The natural temperature of the waters of Bareges ivaches forty of Reaumur, and the dif- ferent baths are tempered at pleasure. The water is remarkal)ly limpid, and both smells and tastes disagreeablv. In the yJar 1702, the whole of the Bareges was menaced with destruction. Tin? Lake d'Oncet, situated between GOOO and 7000 feet high, })elow the higliest summit of the Pic du Midi, overfiowed its limits, and ])ourinriiik, and crossing two naked defiles, one the defile of Lienz, the other that of Es- cabous. The torrents which rush down these defiles are as impetuous and almost as large as the Gave de Ikistan, which they join ; and the burst- ing of a storm over the Neou Vkilie, is almost as disastrous in its effects as when it bursts over the Pic du Midi. From Bareges, all through the valley of Bastan towards the Tourmalet, there is not a single habitation on the right acclivity of the moun- tains. These would be exi)osed to certain destruc- tion from the torrent and the avalanche. On the opjujsite side of the river, a little scanty verdure and a few huts may here and there be seen, perched upon those spots which are above the reach of the water-courses; while higher up, among the alpine hollows and slopes, are thinly scattered the sum- mer-habitat i(ms of the shepherds. Emerging from the narrow valley of Bareges, I found mvsclf in a w ide hollow, where the ditterent feedei-s of the Gave du Bastan meet, and unite into the one stream that Hows past Bareges. The bridges which carry the paths across the streams ha«n- valley which leads to its biuse. Now, however, when v\e turned into this valley, it rose before us free from vapour; but some' light clouds lianging upon the lower acclivi- ties, awakened my fears as to the continuance of a serene atmospliere. The valley wiiich J had now entered was of the most desolate kind ; the ascent was extremely precipitous, and was covered with rocks and stones ; but there was nothing dangerous in the path to a i)edestrian— for I found it neces- sary to dismount, and drive my horse before me. After pursuing this fatiguing ascent about an hour, we reached tlie highest basin in the mountain, where lies the Lake d'Oncet, and froin which springs the conical summit of the I'ic du Midi. The scenery here is of the wildest description. Nothing is seen but a cliaos of precipices and mountain-peaks; and tlie seclusion, depth, and stillness of this mountain-lake, greatly add to the impressive effect of the scentry. The Lake d'On- cet is surrounded on three sides by nuijestic preci- l)ices of bald rock ; and from its northern side, the peak rises directly above the precii)ice that dips into it. The lake is one, if not th(> highest, of the mountain-lakes in Europe. Its level is only l{{f>0 feet below the summit of the p*'ak ; and it therefore lies no less than 7r.«!l feet above the level of the sea, exceeding, by at least above a thousand feet, the elevation of the lake of the Oberalj) in Switzerland. I'atigued in some degree with the ascent, 1 walked to the brink of the water and seated myself upon a stone. No breath of air can reach this nu)untain-lake— it lay in perfect calm — the terrific precipices that rise from it, imageecting, tliat the mists would roll away ; but thev every moment became more dense. If the sunnnit were one moment discovered, it was only to be involved the next in thicker obscurity. At length the surface of the lake beu'an to be dimpled with rain ; and it was then out of the (piestion te attempt the ascent. But I resolved, notwithstand- ing the rain, to procet'd to Pagneres, across the Tounnalet, and to attempt the ascent m-xt day, from the other si(l(% which I knew to be jtassable, although more dithcult. The i-ain had now in- creased ; and, perceiving a small shelter of stones and heath at no great distaTice, tenanted by two nKtuntaiiK'crs, we nuule towards it, and found a hospitable rece]>tion. What a spot was this for human beings to live in! It was in the interior about eight feet Sijuare ; the walls were of stones loosely put together, and covered with heath; and a thick layer of heath coven-d the ground. The two men who inhabited it followed the lumible, laborious, but certain employment, of collecting the manure from the cattle that grazed on these heights ; and every second or third day, i)er parts of the mountains are traversed by the cattle. When the niin ceased, 1 left the shelter, to con- tinue my journey towards Pagneres. Here I dis- niis.sed both the* guide and the horse ; because, to have gone from this point to Pagneres, by any road passable for a horse, would have been a (Utour of two leagues. The guide pointed out to me the path which 1 nuist follow, showing me an indistinct lin<> along the face of the mountain, which appeared almost a precijiice; and cautioning me to be care- ful of my foi>ting, he left me, and retraced the path by which we had reached the Lake d'Oncet. I had neeath was in- deed both diihcult and dangerous. Above it, was a high ledge of rocks ; below, a slope, little inclined from the perpendicular : the path itself was often altogether undistinguisliable ; having either given way and slid down the sloj)e, or been washed away by the rains. It was, in fact, only a sheei» or goat track, and was in no place wide enough to permit more than one foot being placed in it. At sonie jdaces, a cleft in the rocks above was the bed of a torrent ; and at such s|)ots, the path and steep slope below, were hollowed out into a deep groove. It was necessary there to creep U])on my hanarly the same effects. 1 esca}>ed these dangers, however, and nached the path whicli leads across the Tour- malet from Parcges. The Tounnalet is a mountain-ridge elevated about nOOO fe(>t, and dividing the valley of Pareges from the valley of CanipaM. Sterility reigns on one side of the ramj>art ; fertility on the other. Tlie stern and dreary basin and valley of Pastan, and its desolating torrent, are on one hand ; the verdant carjiet and wooded valley of C'ampan, and its ft'rtilizing Adour, are on the other. The view, therefore, from this point cannot be otherwise than striking aud varied, since it embraces pictures of characters so oppositt-. Prom tlu' summit of the CHAP. XXX.] BAGNERES DE BIGORRE. 91 pass, to the commencement of the valley of Campan, the slopes of the mountain were entirely covered with cattle and sheep. The transition from the deep seclusion and the dead stillness of the Lake d'Oncet, and the solitary scenes I had passed throuu'h, to the sheep-spotted slopes, and the low- ing aini bleating of the Hocks, seemed fraught with life and cheerfulness ; and, although it again rained so hard as to soak my clothes in a few miimtes, I could not help lingering among those sweet pastoral scenes. Before reaching the foot of the mountain, I passed two small hamlets, called Trasm.'sagues, and Artigues, the highest summer-habitations ()f the mountaineers of the valleys on the north side of the Tounnalet. It is at (J rip, about a mile lower down the Adour than the foot of the Tounnalet, that the valley of Campan mav be said to begin ; though, until we reach the little village of Sainte Marie, it is some- times called the valley of (irip. No valley of the Pyrenees, scarcely any vallt;y of Euro])e, has been more extolled tluui th<> valley of Campan. That it is a beautiful and charming valley, fertile, rhiNfe, and full of life, and industry, and abundance, can- not be denied ; but it may very well be questioned whether it justifies the extravagant praisus of those who consider it entitled to a decided supremacy over all the other scenes which the Pyrenees dis- close. It is beautiful ; but it does not boast that union of beauty, picturesciueness, and sublimity, which ii the characteristic of the valley of Luz ; and even in the elentents of beauty, I think it will scarcely bear a comparison with the valleys of Ar- geles and Pierrefitte. But 1 willingly admit the claims of the valley of Campan to beauty of a very high order; gentle declivities— Hat meadows— or- cluirds, copses, and gardens— charming verdure- many clear rivulets — a line river— marks of un- wearied industrv— numerous j)retty cottages, and freijuent villages* :— these are the pleasing features of the vallev of Cam{)an. In this beautiful valley, there is nothing more beautiful than the spectacle of industry, and the clean and comfortable api)earance of the cottages. The neat and wv.W laid out gardens, and tlie respect- al)le dress of the peasants, are sutticient evidence that industry in the valley of Campan is rewarded iu the fertility of the s(.U. Here, nobody is to be seen doing nothing : the women, in particular, are examples of industry : every one has her distaff and spindle ; whether she be on the highway driv- ing pack-horses or nmles before her ; or henling ca7tle in a meadow ; or sitting at her cottage-door ; or strolling in the fields ; or gossiping with a neigh- bour,— the distatt" is seen in her liand, and the spindle by her side. Between the little town of Campan and Pag- neres, the valley expands, so as to deserve the name of a vale rather than a valley ; and a plahi of some extent lies between tin? road and the river. Notwithstanding the coinforUible condition in which the inhabitants of this valley appear to live, the vicinity of the baths, and iuHux of strangers, have produced, even there, its usual ettects, by begetting habits of idleness among some, and by tainting th<> simplicitv of th(»ught. The children are almost all beggai-s,'and without the plea of necessity. Every few hundrerl yards, you are accosted by children, who run from the cottages, and |)erst'cute you with tli(>se three (questions : " Monsieur, voulez-vous un bouquet?" " Monsieur, voulez-vous voir le grotte ?" " Monsieur, voulez-vous me donner un sous T' As for the bouquet which the child offers, it is not like the two or three pretty rose-buds which the Hower- girls of Paris stick in your breast nudyri was ; but a common daisy, a bit of heath, or even a handtul of grass — any thing as an excuse for asking a sous The weather had cleared up soon after I de- scended the Tounnalet ; and all through the valley of Campan it had been fair and sunshine ; so that I was thoroughly dry before 1 reached Bagneres, which 1 walked hito about five o'clock. CHAPTER XXX. BAGNERES DE BIGORRE— ASCENT OF THK PIC DU MIDI. Bagneres de Bigorre — Its Visitors, Attractions, and Waters —Journey from Bagneres to Grip, and Morning Scenes- Ascent of the Pir du Midi— View from the Summit— Re- marks, and Comparison of ditfefent Views from different Mountains— Temperature— Descent, and Return to St. Sauveur. It has been said of Bagneres, that it is a town where pleasure has raised her altare beside those of Escu- lapius ; and this is true ; for it is only at Bagneres, among all the watering-places of the Pyrenees, that that kind of pleasure is to be found, which is usually sought for at a watering-place. Bagneres is, for this" reason, by far the most frequented of the baths ; because it is not freciuented by mvalids only, but also by two other kinds of visiters— those whose slight ailments are co?upatible with the pursuit of pleasure ; and those who are driven, by the heats of summer, from the plains of France to the moun- tain-air of the Pyrenees. Among this latter cla.ss may be ranked the great majority of the English who reside at Pan and its neighbourhood. The strangers who resort to Bagneres are, however, chieHv composed of French— not from Paris— for, to the Parisians, the Tuileries is the most charming of forests ; Montmartre, the prince of mountains ; and as for society, who would seek for it beyond the soiroit and salons of Paris ? This predilection of the French for every thing Parisian, and their unwillingness to believe that there is a world beyond Paris, recalls to my mind a little incident worth relating. Leaving Paris in the diligence for Aix-la-Chapelle, I chanced to observe, in conversation with a French gentlenian, that I was tired of plains, and that a country with- out mountains could not be interesting; and, observing that a lady opposite seemed to listen to the conversation, 1 turned to her, and said, " You have no mountains, Madam, in Paris {" " Je vous demande pardon. Monsieur," said she, with the ut- most seriousness ; and with something of an^ off ended air, " nous avons les montagnes Russes."* *' Ah I e'est vrai," 1 replied ; " mille pardons." But to return to Bagneres : it is not frequented by the Parisians, unless the medical man should happen to be so great a barbarian as to send them there. It is patronised by the inhabitants of Thou- louse, and the Bourdeaux merchants ; and, next to the French, it is most resorted to by the Russians, ♦ The reader doubtless knows, that the Montagnes Russes are artilicial hillocks. ^-, H 92 PIC DU MIDI. [chap. XXX. f \i Ij who are now found all over the world as tnivellers pmr (hp-tmensf, and who threaten t<» darken the reputation now and lonj; enjoyed Isy the Kii^lish, of j behi^ the c^reatest travelU-rs upon i-arth. Wherever we look into a list of visitors to any celebrated spot, we hnd it clieqnered with the outlandish names of this prinee and that count ; and upon lookin-^ over the list at Ba^Mieres for the i»ast year, I found twice as many Russiati as Enti^lish names. As many as ei^lit thousand strangei-s have been assembled at Baf^neres at one time. It doubtless possesses many adv-iintafjes both to the healthy and the intirm. Deli;^ditful drives aurings, are attraction enough to the latter. But Bai,nieres is, notwithstanding:, no favourite of mine. In the tirst place, it is n(»t in the Pyre- nees, and does not possess the chai'm of mountain- scenery. The views around, beautifid thouj^h they be, are not mountain-views ; and the air is not mountain-air : and, in the next place, the town itself islar^'e, noisy, and dirty, and a sfioir-phirc into the bar^'ain. The only thiu'i I like about Ba<;ncres, is the head-dress of the native women. This is a handkerchief, adjusted to the hearefore the consultation costs nothing; and the expense of the bath is not more than one franc. Bagneres is less expensive than St. Sauveur as a place of residence, because it is situated in a more productive coniUry ; but it is far froni being cheap, nevertheless. At' the puldic establislunents, one chamber costs five francs ; breakfast of tea or coffee, two francs ; diimer, four francs. To those wliolive in j)rivate lodgings, market-prices are also high. Meat is s<-ldom below 8d. per lb. A fowl costs Is. :id. Milk and butter are both dear; and al- thougli r'tn ordinain' may be had at 4d. per bottle, tolerable wine costs at least double that sum. 1 had no temptation to remain at Bagneres be- vond the day following my arrival ; uird accord- ing! v, the second morning, about an hour before sunrise, I left Bagneres in the intention of break- fasting at Trri]*, and of attenq>ting the ascent of the J'ir.lnMH} from that side, if the weather should jirove favourable. The sun rose upon the moun- tains as I walked up the valh'y of ('anq>an ; ami many were tlie charming ])ictures which my morn- ing walk atibrded. The valley was still all in shad.-, unless where, through some openings in the moim- tains, the golden flood streamed across it. The labonri'rs were busy in the fields ; some in the lower grounds, cutting and getting in the harvest — others, higher up the sloi)t\s, mowing hay — and some, in the neighbourhood of the cottages, spreading out flax. Women, with their scarlet capulets gathered up on their heails, and scarlet-stripeil petticoats, andspindl. s by their sides, were following little herds of cattle and troops of goats going to pasture. The little mountain-streams, clear and cool, danced along ; aud all nature wore the joyous and life-like aspect of the morning. After a somewhat long, but delightful walk, I reached Grip to lireakfast, about seven o'clock ; and some excellent brown bread, new milk, and deli- cious butter, prepared me for the fatigue (»f my journey. The weather was (piite .serene, and then; was not the least vapour upon the ])eak. 1 there- fore rested at(Jri[) only until 1 had finished my repast, and set out to asc« nd the mountain. The ascent of the IMc du .Miili from this side, is far more arduous than from the side of Bareg«>s. From Bareges, onc^ may riile a sure-footed hoi-se as far as the hlike d'Oncet, within -JOOO feet of the sunnnit. Frotn (Jrij), it is inq)ossible to go one step otherwise than on foot ; and the j>ath is not only steep, but in many places reciuires a stea little hollows ; and the beautiful flowers blooming around, recalled to my recollection the ascent of Mount Badus, in Sw itzirland. I sturdily pui-sued my journey, looking neither behind, nor to the right'nor the left, that the view from the sum- mit might be the more striking — and only resting occasionally upon my hands and knees ; and a little bef ire mid-day, five'hours after leaving Grip, I at- tained the sunnnit. The excellence of a view from a mountain-top depends upon two things— the position of the moun- tain, and its height ; and almost as much depends upon the one as upon the other of these. A moun- tain may be so situated in the midst of other mountains, that, although greatly higher than any of its neighboui-s, nothing but inountain-peaks may be visible from its sunnnit. Such is the situation of the majority <»f the Swiss mountains ; for if we clomb to the summit of the Shreckhorn, the Monk, or almost any one mountain of the Oberlaiid Ber- nois, we should have no reward, exct-pting ^the irimnjih »if having surmounted a difficulty. Ihe same remark api'lies, in a lesser degree, to Snow- don, Ben Nevis, and Ilelvellyn. Or a mountam, even although not so i^laced in the midst of other nioinnains, may be unfortimately situated for a 1 view from it, because the surrounding coiintry may be uninteresting. Many examples of this may be found, both at home and abroad. The excellence of a view from a niountain-top, depends ui)on the height, as well as the position, of the mountiiin. No^'one ever ascended Mont Blanc, merely for the | sake of the view from its sunnnit. On such alti- tudes, the pleasure we enjoy has little to do with the world below : we con'nnune with heaven rather than with earth ; the things of time, and the pass- ing world among them, are lost in the gi-andeur of eternitv ; and, standing upon the utmost limits of human existence, the mind refuses to take cogni- zance of things so insignificant as man and his petty dcmiain ; and fancy, soaring from the i)in- nacle, wanders to sublimer scenes and higher destinies. Lower elevations must be sought, if we climb the mountain-side for the sake of the view from the sunnnit ; and accordingly, several of the mountains most ct'lebrated for such views, are but third or fourih-rate mouiUains. Vesuvius is little UH.re than 4000 feet high ; the Rigi does not reach 5000 feet ; Ben Lomond is only 3000 feet ; Da- myet is still lower. All these immntains combine a coniparativelv low elevation with a favourable po- sition. All of them, excepting Vesuvius, although connected with mountain-ranges, stand in some de- gree i-solated from the others, and rise either from lakes, plains, or the sea. I know of no mountain whose qualifications, as to position and height, are so perfect as those of the Pic du Midi. Although not isolated, it stands the outermost of the Pvrenean range, the most south- erly summit of the High Pyrenees, and dro{)s at once, from an elevation of nearly 10,000 feet, into the i)lains of Gascony and Beam. It is rare that a mountain of so great elevation forms t)ne of the outposts of a mountain-range ; and therefore, in position, the Pic du Midi is perhaps m.n-e favour- ably situated than any other mountain in Europe. But, in its combination of position and altitude, it undoubtedlv has a still more manifest advantage ; for although the altitude of a mountain may be so great as to substitute a mere undefined feeling of sublimity ft)r a magnificent ])rospect, yet a very considerable elevation, if comliined with the ad- vantage of ]iosition, is necessary to the i>crfection of this pr<.s])ect. The view from an elevation of 2000 or 3000 feet may be beautiful in the extreme ; but when we look around us from an elevation of 8000 or 10,000 feet, beauty is mingled with sub- limitv. 1/ 7.7' I recollect l)eing once asked, at the table d note, in the Ecu de Geneve, by an English view -hunter, to which view, among all that I had ever seen, I crave the preference ; and 1 think that if, previous to that time, I had clomb the Pic du Midi, I should have accorded the palm to it. Its summit reaches an elevation from which the extent, as well as the nature of the prospect, entitles it to rank with the sublime ; and yet it is still connected with the world below, so 'that the human i»art of the picture (for we are still able to distinguish the habitations of men) lessens the oppressive feeling which un- mixed sublimit v produces upon the mind ; and while around us\ve have the soHtude and grandeur of " the everlasting hills," below we have a world spread out, in which we have an interest ; and our synqiathies are divided between the solitary sub- limity of nature, and the realities of human life and i human affections. i Looking towards the scnith, 1 seemed to be placed in the centre of a semicircle of gigantic mountains, which stretched east and west as far as the horizon, and which rose above one another beyond the fron- tiers of Spain, the towers of Marbore and Mount Perdu overto])ping them all. To the north stretched the fertile plains of Beam, Gascony, and Langue- doc, which, even from this high altitude, seemed like a beautiful mosaic, though the woods, gardens, and fields, of which the mosaic was composed, were of course nndistinguishable ; and the moun- tain upon which 1 stood, was not the least interest- in^ part of the i)rospect--its rugged rocks, its sin(H)th slopes, its dark dells, its distant and dim- discovered valleys, far, far below, and the thread of silver that serpentined through theiii. The temperature of this high elevation was chill, i l)ut not disagreeal)lv cold at first ; though, after having remained about half an hour, the increasing chillness suggested the propriety of descending. No difference in resi)iration was perceptible to me, nor any kind of bodilv inconvenience, at this eleva- tion of' nearly 1 0,000 "feet. On the summit of the peak there is a scanty vegetation. I plucked some mosses, which had piit forth their minute flowers, and saw also the gentian-root. <*.] .>»t.i •i I? '±4 •w- 1l hi : u i ' \ m 94 VALLEY OF GAVAUNIE. [chap. XXXI. 1 kit the inuuiitain-top with ref^*et ; and yet I hehevc no one ever descended i'nun a i,'reat eleva- tion, without beini' conscious of a'Tt'eable feeling's, in a|)])roaeliin(; aj^ain the habitable world from which he had been s«»n\e time separated. In little more than half an liunr I had reached tlie Lake d'Oncet, where I resti'd a little whil(% and then pui-sued the ti"ack by which I had aseended two days before ; but, being on foot, I kept on tlie north side of the valley, along the n)ountJun-side, till I reached the valley of liareges, and then 1 followed the stream. From the entrance of the valley of Bareges to the town — about a league — I counted no fewer than sixty-seven mountain-streams, which pour into the Gave of FJastan ; and 1 saw at least as numy more be me, in his own way, the fortunes of the day, the eagerness of his gestures, and the changing ex])res- sion of his countenance showed his enthusiasm in liis trade, and the delight he took in its chanets and issues ; and there can l)e but little doubt that when the fatigue and dangers of the day terminate in the possession of the izard, he considers these far overj>aid. The mind of a man who spends his davs a hunter in the mountains, must be strangely complexit>ni'd. l)w«'lling always among mountain- solitudes — always alone with nature, and amid her grandest works — companion of the storm, and the mists, and the shadows — the great rocks — the rush- inne vessel beneath the wide starry sky. But it is ])robable that these men look not beyond their individual calling. The rudder that guides the v«'ssel through the ocean is, to the mari- ner, an object of deeper interest than the illimitable and trackless waters ; and to the himter of the Alps or the I'yrenees, the only object of interest among the mountain-solitudes is the little animal that he pursues. During the sunmier months, the road from Ga- varnie to the more northern jiarts of the Pyrenees, is constantly traversed bv the shepherds and their Hocks, travelling from the mountains on the Sjianish side to the pastures of Beam ; for it is the custom with all the shei)herds of the Pyrenees to change their pastures. These patriarchal s]»ectacles are to be seen every day. From my window in St. Sauveur, which ojiened upon the (iave and the o|)p()site road, I could see a constant succession of these shepherd-famili(s and their varied flocks ; and in this morning's walk I met several. The sheep, the cows, the goats, and the mules, formed the line of march, and behind was the family of the shejiherd ; the childron in liaskets slung across a horse ; the mother walking by its side ; and those children wh(» were able to walk runniiii: Ijehind. Such pictures as these added greatly to the interest and beauty of a moi-ning landscape — l)eautiful even without them, from the pictures(jueasj)ects in which nature presentetl lu'i-stlf. Soon after leaving the izard hunter, I reached a bridgi' across the Gave, by which tli<* road i»asses to the (tpposite bardc. The bridge is fraillv con- structed, it is supported in the centre upon a pile of stones raisfd upon a rock, and trembles under the rush (d" water, which, just above, forms a rapid which may almost be called a cataract. Here the ravine widens into the charming little valley of Pragneres, one of those delicious spots, w hich, shut out from the rest of the world by sterile mountains, contains within itself every clement of beauty. CHAP. XXXi.] MARBORE. 93 There is a small village of the same name about the middle of the valley. It is surrounded bv little meadow s, corn-fields, and gi-oves. A small stream, the Gave of Pragneres, flows past the village ; and several lesser rills hurry through the valley, and are ma/-(''7/(' 'rrs, snows, and glaciers, are all mingled together ; and nothing is visible beyond ; for the scene is shut in on the north by numerous peaks, and on the south by the boundary of the two kingdoms. About mid-tlay, 1 gained the upper j)art of the snow-plain, and stood opj>osite to the lircche de Roland. Let me describe in a few words the Breche de Roland. A rocky wall from 400 to 700 feet high, extends nearly east and west, guide, while we were seated in the breach, if many persons mounted to this spot ? He said, scarcely any one. I told him the fault was partly his own, l)y magnifying so much the dilHcul- ties a*nd dangers of the ascent. He said, the fault began with M. Ramond, (the French geological writer on the Pyrenees), and that he did little more than repeat what M. Ramond had said. This, 1 told him, might possibly be true ; that, in future, he would do wisely to tell hmlthti travellers, that they might, without any ditticulty, mount to the lireche de Roland ; upon wiiich he was plc>ased to pay a coin|ilinient to my prowess, anart of the scene was after the pilgrimage was made. The mountaineers then retired in groups behind some of the neighbouring rocks, the men to put on their slioes, and the women to put on both their slioes and their stockings. Ail then gave themselves up to innocent mirth ; and l)y-and-by, seating them- selves at a little disUmce from the chapel, they pro- duced their stores, and feasted with the simplicity, and no doubt with the appetites, of mountaineers. Every one was neatly dressed ; and although I did not remark much striking beauty among the girls, there ai)peared much good humour and attractive modesty. 1 accepted the invitation of one of the parties, the first of the many who would have otf'ei"ed, to join in their repast ; and they were not less sparing in their hospitalities, because I had not walked bare-footed, and kissed the Virgin. Thev seemed a simple and contented race, witli no greater share of supei'stition than might be ex- pected. After the repast had been concluded, every one made a circuit to the Ca'dlau de la linUlt, an enormous block of fallen rock, consecrated by the | ci'edulity of the mounUiineers, and every one broke off a small fragment as a relic ; and having finished the day with acts of ]>iety, the mountain- jiaths were again scattered with the pilgrims wend- ing homewards, not now singing a pious hymn, but filling the valley with their innocent glee ; and having seen all, 1 took the i^oad to Gedro. There was once a lake in the valley of Heas ; but it burst its bounds, and has not been formed again. There was nothing to detain me at Gedro, and I accord- ingly retraced my steps to St. Sauveur, with de- lightful recollections of my journey, and enjoying as much as before the interesting scenes through which I had already passed. CHAPTER XXXn. JOURNEY TO CAUTERETS — CAUTERETs Journey across the Mountains — Lakes of the Pyrenees — A Night in a Hut— Arrival at Cauterets — Situation of Cau- terets — Baths, and Medicinal Waters — The Gave de Cau- terets — Return to St. Sauveur by the Vignemale and Gavarnie. There is only one road to Cauterets. I had al- ready, in travelling from Argeles to Luz, passed the ])oint where it branches off at Pierrefitte ; and, beinjj unwilling to retrace the road down the defile of Luz, 1 resolved to attempt a passage across the mountains from St. Sauveur. I knew from the ma]) the general situation of Cauterets : and, as I knew also that the distance in a straight line could not exceed three leagues, 1 felt no apprehension of mistaking the road. But the event proved how little a general knowledge of direction avails us in travelling among mountains, I left St. Sauveur one delightful morning about six o'clock, and without seeking any path, began the ascent of the mountain which rises directly behind the baths ; and, after a toilsome walk, I reached the summit of the ridge that fomis the western boundary of the cradle of Luz. The point to which 1 had directed my steps, was of course the lowest part of the ridge, and was not perhaps more than three thousand feet above St. Sauveur. I ex- pected to have seen the valley of Cauterets from the summit of this ridge ; but I only saw a deep oblong hollow about two leagues distant, filled by a lake about half a league in length. By an error in my map, this lake was not marked ; and I mistook it for another, which lies at no very great distance from Cauterets, and which I ought to leave on my right. I accordingly made towards the lake, that I might double its southern extremity, in the ex- pectation that, after ascending the next summit, 1 should look down upon Cauterets. The distance to this lake I found to be much greater than I had expected ; for, owing to several morasses, I was obliged to take a most circuitous path, and more than three hours elapsed before I reached the mar- gin. Although the Pyrenees do not boast lake- scenery, there is, nevertheless, a great number of lakes among the Haute? Fijrt:nee?. There are not fewer altogether than twenty-six ; but the greater number of these do not exceed a mile or two in circumference, and are rather mountain-tarns than lakes ; and even the largest of them scarcely reach a league in circumference. With the exception of two or three of these lakes, they lie in mountain- hollows, y^'iih neither cultivation nor picturesque .scenery around them. Some are indeed suri-ounded l)y sublimity, such as the Lake d'Oncet ; but the water is but a very secondary feature in the scene. The lake which I skirted in this morning's walk, I afterwards found is called the Lac d'Ardiden. Its only feature was solitary wildness ; and its only ornament the box-tree, which hei-e, as elsewhere in the Pyrenees, forms a close underwood. Before I turned the head of the lake, between five and six hours had elapsed since leaving St. Sauveur. 1 expected to have reached Cauterets an hour before this time ; but I had no doubt, that, from the summit of the next ridge, I sliould see Cauterets below me. I accordingly struck in a right line fi-om the head of the lake, to ascend the neighbouring range. The brilliant sun and serene atmosphere that had so pleasantly ushered in the morning, had long since become shrouded ; and a most threatening darkness had already spread over the sky. There was every foreboding of a storm ; and I made all possible haste to surmount the height, that I might arrive at Cauterets before it should commence. I was therefore not a little dis- appointed, when, upon gaining the summit of the ridge, a wilder scene than I had already passed through lay before me, and Cauterets was nowhere visible ; and, to add to my disappointment, the sudden illumination of the heavens, and a deep roll of thunder, was almost immediately succeeded by some heavy drops, which I well knew would soon ripen into one of those torrents that descend on mountain-regions. Where Cauterets might be, I could not conceive ; but it was evident that I had mistaken my way. Whether it lay before me, or to the right or the left, 1 knew not. In the mean time, wishing to shelter myself from the storm, I made towards some rocks that lay in the next hol- low ; and had hardly got under the shelter of the rock, when the storm came down in good eani€«t. Not a drop could reach me where I lay ; but, after remaining more than an hour, the rain had not in the smallest degree subsided. The day was wear- ing away ; and, for aught I knew, I might be yet many leagues from Cauterets. At length, bi-aving H , *1 98 I AL lERETS. [chap. XXXII. tlio stni-m, T left my shelter, takinp at a venture a direc-tioii a little nu)re8<»utlierly,an«l walking almost ancle-deep in water ; while, at the same time, the torrent that still |>()m-ed from the skies drenched me in a few miiuitcs. 1 liad walked since morninpj without havincj seen a single cottage ; Lut, after continuing my journey ahout an hour long«r, 1 descried a hut at the ex- tn-mitv of a small lateral valley to the left, about a mile distant ; and, as the sky grew darki>r on the horizon, although the rain had in some degree sub- sided, and as 1 had undoubtedly waudrred from my road, I turned into the vallry to seek shelter at tlu- cottage. 1 had ho|)es that it might |>rov»' a C'agot hut, which, from the solitariness of the situation, seemed not improbable : but 1 afterwards learned, that none of the Cagot f'aniily are found in the val- levs that lie in this direction. 'iJefore reacliing the cottage, the storm had re- connnenced with greater fury than ever ; and, in a situation that refpun-d fire, victuals and rest, I entered a hut that 1 fear.'d might contain no mate- rials for eitb.er of the three. 1 found a middle- aged num, a girl about sixteen years old, and two boys in the hut ; and although the iunuitts seemed marvellouslv astonislnd at the entrance of a stran- ger, 1 was \\v\\ received, as 1 had always been in ^i!vcrv — even the j)Oorest — hut into which 1 ever entered in the Pyrenees. The cottage was not so utterlv destitute of comforts as I had feareeasant was a widower, and these were his three children. They were poorly dressed, and seemed scantily fed ; and the condition of this re- mote family nnght be taken as a fair example of th(> condition of the i)oorer mountaineers of the Pyrenees. The property of the juasant consisted of" two cows and three goats. A snuill meadow in the neighbourhood of the hut was fertilized, ami allotte(rt(> rye ; and about a rood ()f land was laid out in ]>otatoes and cabbages. The peasant ami his family consumed the whole produce of the animals. " Meat of no kind ever entered the cabin ; but the lake whitdj 1 had ]»assed occasionally sup- plied a few fish, which were scarce, however ; and the lake was, besitles, a league and a half distant. A kind of cheese, like some of the ])oor Scotch cheeses, was made from the goat's milk ; and the sale of this to the lower orders at Cauterits, was the only source of the money necessai-y for the purchas'e of clothes, and whatever else is not pro- duced by cows and goats. It niav be suiiposilace of doubling the south side of the lake, I ought to have passed its northern extremity. It was now past lour in the afternoon ; and to' have set out within a few lioiu^s of sunset, across a eomitry where there was no road, and without any certain knowledge of «lirec- tion, would have been, if n(»t hazardous, at least disagreeable ; and 1 therefore resolved to i)ass the ni^lit in the but. No one can be said to fan' ill who has a lariro wooden ladle of new milk befori- him, and a loaf of rye bread ; and no one can be sjiid to pass a bad night who is in good health, and who has a clean sheep-skin to lie upon, in the mild temperature of the south of France. All these luxuries I enjoyed. The rain ceased about six o'clock, and 1 walked with the peasant's family to the neighbouring mountain— s:iw the cows milked —supped heartily— slei)t soundly— and was awoke ])v th(^ owner of the hut soon after day-break. He resolutely refused any compensation for my enter- tainment ; but one of the boys, wlio accompanied me to the top of a neighbouring acclivity, to point out the road, was less stui-dy in his independence. 1 found no ditllculty in tlii> morning's journey ; for, after i»assing a mountain-ridge, 1 descended into the vallev .t l.utour, which is a continuation of the defile of (auteiH'ts. A road lay along the bank of the small stream that Hows .b-wn to Canterets ; and, following this i>atli, 1 arrixed, after about two houi-s' walk, in the hollow, or basin, in tlie bottom of which lie the village and baths of Canterets. Canterets is a fashionable itlace ; and therefore a foot-ti-aveller, arriving without even the excuse of a i)edestrian — a knapsack upon his back— could scarcely expect a very cordial reception : besides, ]iedestrians are unknown in the Pvn nees. Can- terets, too, was s(» full of company, that there was no temptation to hold out a flag of invitation ; and 1 should have found ditficulty in finding accommo- dation, if a uMMitleman whom 1 had known in I'aris had not accidentally passed, just at the monientwhen I was told, for the' third time, that there was not a chamber at my disposal. This recognition, how- ever, gave a new turn t(» my affairs ; and I obtain() ])ers«)ns ; and, in the buildings appropriated to the reception of strangers, nearly a thousand persons can be ac- couMiiodated. The medicinal springs of Cauterets, excepting one, called the Jjnizdiid, are situated at some little distance from the villagt%upon the sitle of the in(»un- tain that rises to the i-ast of it. One of these — the j)rincii>al of them— is called Ctmr ; of course, from the tradition that Ciesar used its watei-s. Another of the springs was ]»atronized by Margaret, sister of Francis 1., and grandmother of Henry the Fourth, who took refuge fnmi the tumult of cities and courts in the solitude of the Pyrenees. Besides these, there are eight or ten other fountains ; but several of them aiv yet in a state of nature. Al- most all of them are pictures(iuely sitiuited among rocks and wateifalls. Canterets possesses sevei-al of the agrtmehs of Bagneres, with more interesting and excitini^ scenery ; and, placed at least PJOO feet higlur than Ikigncres, its air is more invi- gorating, and the heats of summer less felt. There is little doubt, that baths will always be found the most efhcacions, where the scenery is the most vari«(l and pleasing, and the air the purest ; and that Rousseau was right in thinking " qu'aucune CHAP. XXXIII.] JOURNEY TO BAGNERES DE LOUCHON. 99 agitation violente, aucune maladie do vapeurs ne pourrait rt^sister contre un pareil se'jour prolong^ ; et il s'^tonnait que des bains de I'air salutaire et bienfaisant des montagnes ne fussent pas un des grands remedes de la me'decine et de la morale." Palsy, rheumatism, and stomach-comj)laints, are the three classes of disordei's that are said to yield most readily to the watei's of Cauterets. The tem- perature of the springs ranges from 31° to 40' of Reaumur. Cauterets is the most expensive of the Pyrenean watering-places ; because the concoui'se of strangei's is always pressing upon the accommo- dation ; because the country around is totally uni)ro- ductive ; and because some eminent persons having selected Cauterets as a residence during the season, it has ac(juired a distinction as a place of fashionable resort, besides being a refuge for the infirm. If Cau- terets were nothing but a village, with its few mea- dows and copses, and its flocks and inountaineei*s — if it had these, without the dts'i'jriiiu /is of a watering- place — its invalids and ])alan(iuins — its air apprtti — its fine houses, and finely-dressed peoj)le — how charming a spot would it be for the disciple of Isaak Walton ! Wn' the (Jave of Cauterets is a stream, the sight of which would make the heart of an angler leap for joy. It is neither too large nor too small, neither too limj)id nor too dark, neither too ra])id nor too slow — shaded occasionally by high banks, but not shaded l)y trees. But it possesses two drawbacks nearly fatal to the enjoyment of a tho- rough angler. The fish are so numerous as to ensure a nibble at every cast ; and so simple- minded and credulous, that every nibble proves a take. I am almost ashamed to add — since I am sj)eaking to sportsmen — that the trout of the Cave de Cauterets are admirable, ^/^vy/ic in the frying-pan. 1 remained only one day at Cauterets, and durin ; 'tis the idi'jl of travelling — the cream whipped off, and beat up ; he has it all his own way ; he can proportion the distance of the journey to his strength or his caprice ; he can fix the temperature of the weatiier ; he regulates his health, and even the frame of his mind ; and he can dine upon fish, flesli, or fowl, and drink vln du pays, or preniitre quai'dt, just as he pleases. But I am far from wish- ing to intimidate the stay-at-homes, by leading them to suppose, that the ideal and the real of travelling are always diametrically opi>osed. I doubt whether a journey be so agreeable, which is all pleasure and no privation. If a day's journey turn out to be ten miles longer than one expected, with how much more satisfaction do we arrive at the end of it ! If we have been half-frozen in crossing a mountain, how doubly sweet is the warm shelter of the valley, or the cheerful blaze of the inn fire ! or, alter a meagre breakfast and a worse dinner, who shall de- scribe the delights of an ample and excellent supper, or the joys of a soft clean bed, after a night's tra- velling hi the diligence ? The pleasure of every journey that I have made has far, very far out- weighed the pains ; and if it be any test of the en- joyment we have reaped m a journey, that that journey often recurs to the memory, then 1 have the most enjoyed those which have been the most chequered with difficulties and dangers. But the pleasure of travelling depends upon the peculiar frame of every man's mhid. Some can be merry under all circumstances ; others are ever discon- tented. Let these stay at home, and keep to their easy chairs and fire-side comforts. 1 recollect with peculiar pleasure the days I spent at St. Sauveur — my walks upon the mountain-sides — my search for aromatic plants — my iriactive nmsings by the side of the Gave, or upon the wooden bridge ; and yet I had no comforts at St. Sauveur. 1 liad had breakfasts — (there was no butter, and the water never boiled) — execrable dhmei-s, cold, and ill-cooked — a bad bed — and great extortion. The system jjursued at the Pyrenean watering-places is an unsocial and uncomfortable one. In place of public tables, every one dines in his own room. An attemj)! was made by a traUeur, while 1 was at St. Sauveur, to open a public table ; but 1 believe the company never got beyond two kept-mistresses and a gentleman's gentleman. This is certainly extraordinary, since no people u})on H 2 i Si- »• 1 -* J « 'J J* . -K- 't,; h" ♦tj 100 JOURNEY TO tiAu.NLUi^ DE LOUCHON. [chap, xxxni. earth an- s<, little addicted to solitude as the French. But i.uhlic- tahlefi are not la imxU ; and therefore, h.nvevtr miu-h a^'ainst their inclination, the trench uv compelled to eat their dinners in solitude. 1 he next room to mine wa^ (K-cuined by a French gen- tleman, who found solitude at meals so irksome, that he talke and the delicious milk "at the fo..t of the T..unnalet, I practised a little economy at Bareges, by purchasing an excel- lent new loaf to carry forward, in place ot paymg two francs fi)r a bad breakfast m the caff. Ihe cotta-^e 1 found in its place, and the boys ran out as before. The milk was as delicious as ever, and 1 enioved it ten times more, because I had not break- fasted. This 1 call i.art of the art ..f travellmg- -- to increase luxury, and diminish expense. As 1 a-'ain iourneved up the Toumialet, I was a.most tempted to pay a second visit to the Pic du Midi, the summit was so free from va])our,and setnied so near I l)assed the Tourmalet at the same point as before, and a-ain cause ..f its suseeptil)ihty t«) the attn.-spheric changes, is the portion of argil which enters into its composition. After leaving this spot, the scenery entirely chan«'es. We enter among the pine-forests ot Aure, and tnivei-se a narrow valley, sombre and unculti- vate.l, leaving the Ph- d\lrb\zon on the nght, anartakes largely ot that union of beauty, picturesqueness, and sublimity, which I have already more than once mentioned aj the characteristic of Pyrenean scenery. I could easily have proceeded to Bagneres de Louchon be- fore nirds of Aure, in former times, looked down upon their sub- ject y of Aure, an.l three other valleys, were ex- cepted from the forfeiture, and given as a dowry to his sister. The once powerful and proud count of Annagnac ^vas now reduced t.. the deepest destitution ; and impelled, as we may presume, by remorse, he begged his way to Rome, to ask an absolution for himselt and his sister, which was granted, upon condition that she should ritire to the monastery of M..unt Sion at Barcelona, and upon conditi.uis still I'^rder for himself. But at this time Louis XI. ascended the French throne, and the cunt . ' il . .4* t 102 lU LiU.TZ. [chap. XXIV. not hesitate to ascribe to tiic wat.i-s e.xtraordinary virtiu'S. Then- can be no doubt, from tlie chemical analysis of tliese sprint;s, that tlie mineral watei-s of the Pyrenees are anionic the most, if not the most, etticacitms of the medicinal springs in Hurope. In the cure of rheumatism, and in the cure of old wounds, experience has shown their decided supe- riority over every other bath ; ami the I'n nch (Tovernment even has considered the mineral wat.rs nf the Pyrenees of so much importance, that it has erected them into a government estaldishment. Physicians say, that the watei-s of Bart'L,'es, and of l^a''neres de*Louchon, have performed the most important and radical cures ; and, althou^di a <;reater munber of stninuers resort to Baj;neres de Higs. Hut the traveller, who wishes to see the Pyrenees, nuist not be • ncumbered with a roitiin' ; even a horse may l)e spared with advantag(\ There, as in every other mountainous cnuntry, pedestrianism is the (.idy mode of travelling, for the man who wislies to extract all tlu> pleasure that monntaiu-s(nnery can furnish, or to i)iek uj) information resj^ecting the habits of tlu' people among whom he journ.ys. There are many objects of curiosity in the neigh- bourhood of Bagneres de Louchon. Of these, the most remarkable, and the most interesting, is the lake of Nr//A /(^ one of the few lakes of the Pyre- nees worthy of a visit. I dedicated a ilay to the Seculejo, an\l have seldom passed one more to my mind. I left Bagneres do Lcuclion about sunrise — the usual hour of my d only sounds that dis- turbed its trantiuillity as I stood upon the nuxrgin of the water. The lake is entirely surrounded by high mountains, exceptint: A\here it finds egress ; and its shores are generally bold and rugijed. At the ui)per end, a cascade not less than (>00 or 7<>0 feet in height falls from the top of a peri)endicular rock into the lake. It is im])d to visit. These are very elevated mountain-tarns, lying almost in the region of snow. All is h«>re sombre, melancholy, rude, and dismal — great i.,,(.ks — a few stunted tre<'s— and still, dfe]>, dark waters, are the features of the scene. Time would not i>ermit me to remain long here. I again re- turned to the Seculejo ; and, after dining luxuriously upon provision 1 had brought fnmi l.ouchon, 1 set out on my return, and arrivrd after dusk at Bag- neres. ClIAPTKR XXXIV. TUF.TIF.TZ. Bayonne and its Advantages as a Residence — Travelling en Cacok't— Road to Bieretz— Situation of Bicretz— The Coast —The Hay of liiscay. in Cahn and in Storm— A Perilous Situation— Views round Hiirttz— Rierelz as a Sea-hathing l>lace — Curious Usages — Promenades in the Neighbour- hood— Otlur Kxcnrsions— -A Fete du Village— Pleasures of a St jour at Hieretz. I.N this chapter, I am about to take a libf^rty, which I tru'^t thv i-eader will j»ardon ; and which, indeed, the titl<" of the book almost, if not altogether, ex- cuses. \\ iththe iasitwentypag( s, 1 have interspei-sed sonu- little account of tlie watering-]>laces of the Py- renees ; ami 1 purpose, in this chapter, transporting the reader 140 miles from the Jldiifi.^ J'iii\iuii<, to givi- him some account of another kind of watering- place, out- of the principal sea-bathing resorts of tlie south of Franc*'. The name of this place is Bieretz. It is situated within two miles of Bayonne ; and, although 1 did not visit Pieretz in the same year as that in which 1 travelled through the Pyrenees, there can be no imj)roj»riety in including, in an account of the south <»f I'rance, some notice of a spot so much fretiueiited, and so delightful, as Jheretz. Fii-st of all, larts — its long \v<:o(len bridge across the A> colonized by the Knglish. The environs of neither Fan n(U* Montauban are pre- ferable to the environs of liayonne ; and with as fertile aiid beautiful a country on one side, Bayonne has the advantage of the si a on the other. It has also some lesser advantages ; among v\ Inch, one — CHAP, XXXIV.] BIERETZ. 1 103 not a trifling advantage to a resident — is an abund- ant, varied, and cheaj) fish-market. But its great advantage is the vicinity of the sea. Over all the southern provinces of France, the heats of summer are ojipressive ; and every one accjuainted with a mountainous country knows well, that, unless we ascend to the very elevated sj)ots, the heat in the al- pine valleys is no k>ss intense than in the lower })lains. Bagneres de Bigorre is, therefore, a very insuffi- cient retreat from tlio heat of the dog-days ; and even Louchon, or St. Sauveur, will lit-ar no com- parison in coolness with the shores of the Bay of Biscay. What can be more convenient than to have cliarming bathing-([uarters within three miles of one's residence ! And there is still another ground of prefi-rence to be stated in favour of lia- yonne. Our neighliours, the French, with whom we English are so fond of domiciling ourselves, it must be allowed, are fond of changes — pulling down and putting uj) kings and governments — and play- ing at political games, in which life is a thing of absolutely no importance : such events, it is well known, occasion a sad commotion amonc: tlu English residents, who think only of educating their chiMreii fur half nothing, and of drinking French wine at one sous per bottle. Some are frightened out of their wits ; others are frightened out of the country ; and all are frightened into indifference about cheap education, and the luxuries of a south- ern cliniatf. But if one resided at Bavonne, all these fears might be spared ; because the resident has only to ]>ut his money into his pocket, lock his d<»or, and walk into Spain ; or he may step into a boat, at the bridge of the Adour, with his family and his treasures, and run into the harbour of St. Sebastian or Fontarabia before dinner. There is no disputing the advantage of Bayonne to a timid resident. I shall now speak of Bieretz : And, first, of the manner of getting there. When you walk to the gate eallee being rolled in the dust. Let it be recol- lected, that the seats are an equipoise, and the diffi- I'ulties will be apparent. If the seats are both to } be occupied, the persons who are to occupy them must make the spring at the same instant ; they must be as watchful of the mutual signal, as a file of soldiei-s who wait the command — " Make ready — present — fire ! " A second's delay — a second's precipitation — proves fatal ; the seat is attained ; and at the same moment, u[i goes the oj>posite empty seat, and down goes the e(iuesti'ian below the horse's belly. It is really a ]a-etty art to mount ev aicolct. If your companion be one of the drivei-s, the danger of a failure is less ; for they understand the thing so perfectly, that tiny always catch the right mo- ment ; but the uninitiati-d must acijuire the ai-t at the expense of several lynrerseinevfs. In descending from the cucolet, it is still worse ; because there is more hurry— more impatience on arriving at the end of a journey ; and an injudicious descent does not visit its effects ui)on one, but upon both travel- lei's ; for unless the person who descends be ex- tremely quick in his motions, his seat flies uj) before he has quite left it, and oversets him ; and the opposite weight, of course, goes i)lumj)to the ground — with as fatal effects as cutting the hammock- strings of a middy's berth. My skill in the art of (Vft'oAZ-mounting and descending, was acquired after many failures, dusted coats, and slight bruises. But it is not only in mounting and descending that art and practice are reiiuired, but in keeping one's seat also. The cushions are seUlom level ; there is no support for the feet ; so tliat if, at a steep descent, the horse trots a little harder than usual, the inexjurienced in cacvlets will probably slide forward into the road ; and of course, at the same moment, the j)erson opposite will experience a like mishap. Morning, noon, and evening, the road between Bayonne and Bieretz is crowded with travi-ilers en caculd ; — some from Bayonne, going to take a dip, or spend a day at Bieretz ; some from Bieretz, going to hear the news, or spend the day at Ba- yonne ; some removing to sea-])atliing quartere ; others returning to town. The exjiense of one transit is one franc ami a half: and for iioiui: and returning, two francs ; but unless a previous under- standing be made, more will be charged. The horses generally bekmg to the women who drive them ; and they realise about six francs jier day upon an average ; which, deducting the keej> of the horses, leaves a very comfortable income. These women are generally young — many of them hand- some — and most of them not remarkable for the purity of their morals. They generally speak French, Basque, and a little Spanish ; and are rather intelligent than otherwise, always carrvinjr on an unintermitting conversation during the whole of the ride. The horses are Lieiieraliv indifferent ; they go at a small trot, and perform the trajH in about forty minutes. No one walks between Ba- yonne and Bieretz, F'ortunatelv for the racolets. the road is for the most i)art covered with deep sand, through which it is an intolenible labour to wade ; but the country adjoining the rcjad is agree- able — extremely fertile — sprinkled with gardens — and adorned with many countiy-houses. I was much j)leased with the first view of Bie- retz ; and it certainly inii)roved upon ac(juaintance. I will endeavour to describe its situation. The coast, about half a mile in extent, is bold and rocky. Ciifi's, not of great altitude — the lower part rock, the ujiper part grass — are washed by the sea at ''til. •fc- « ft: I' ".' »:1 104 BIERETZ. [chap. XXXIV. hijrh tide ; and from the shore, about half a mile out, fiioi-inous rocks aro scattered, fonnmg, near the'shore, numerous sandy creeks which He among them, and which, farther fi-om the shore, are covered, or nearly covered, at high ti(U', while, at low tide, they are left almost, or altogether, dry. Many of these rocks are perforated with holes ; so that,' with a high sea, and an incoming tide, and always, indeed, in some degree, when the tide flows, the water ]>onrs through these holes and rents, pi-esenting the singular appearance of many cas- cades. Some of the rocks wliich lie close t.> the shore, and many of th<.se which form the cliffs, are worn into vant caverns. In these the waves make ceaseless music— a hollow, dismal sound, like distant thunder ; and when a hroad swelling wave bounds into these caverns, and breaks in some dis- tant chamber, the shock, to one standing on the beach, is like a slight earth(iuuke. Hut when a storm arises in thi; Hay of Biscay, and a north-west wind sweeps across the Atlantic, the scene is grand beyond the power of description. The whole space, covered with rocks which are scattered over the coa.st, is an expanse of foam, boiling whirlpools, and cataracts ; and the nois^.' of the tremendous waves, rushing into these vast caverns, and lashing their inner walls, is grander a thousjind times than the most terrific thunder-storm that ever burst from the sky. I can never forget the scene that one day I be- held, or the disastrous eftects of the storm. When I retired to bed it was a calm night ; but lightning, and a threatening sunset, had portended a change. About midnight 1 was awoke by my window In'ing forced open by the tempest. The air and the sky were pitch dark ; but a storm lights up the sea with its own glare ; and the waves, as they broke over the rocks, and rolled into the caverns, and the rush- ing wind, made a sublimity of sound beyond any thing that I had ever before heax-d. But when morning came, and dawned upon the liay of liiscay, the sublimity of sight was added to the sublimity of sound, 1 c'ontrivetl to make my way, with great difficulty, to a si»ot from which I could see the waves rush into the caverns ; but the eye could follow them but a little way. The extent of thes<' subteiTanean chamy)ers can be judged only by tin- ear ; for it was long after the wave had i»assed the porch that the shock and the thunder annomieed that it had reached the innei-most cavern. I was here more than usually sensible of that unaceountabU- feeling which imptls one to U>a]> into any osed to descend to a ledge of rocks that lay below, that he might see farther into the caverns ; but I endeavoured todissiuuh' him from this attemi)t. In order to reach this ledge, it was necessary to drop down a per])endicular rock about four feet ; and the ledgi-, which sloped at nearly an angle of forty-five, was about five yards across, ami ended abruptly, in a descent of twenty or thirty feet, into one of 'the boiling cauldrons that lay before the porch of one of the caverns. My comj»anion would not be persuaded to desist fntm his attempt ; and he dropi)ed upon the ledge, but immediately slipped forward. 1 can never forget my sensations at that CHAP, xxxiv.] BIERETZ. 105 moment. He fell upon his face, and continued to slide nearer and nearer to the edge ; but, about a yard from the extremity, soiue rather more rugg«;d part (»f the rock arrest<(l his progress. It was iin- possible for him to attem])t to regain the upper part of the ledge, for the exertion miglit, if unsut-cessful, pi-ecipitate him downward. He was a good swim- mer ; but sw imming could have been of no avail in such a si)ot, and on such a day. He would have been hurled in an instunt against the porch, or into one of the caverns. I called to him to remain still, and Hew, rather than ran to the house, to obtain assistance. At first no ropes were to be found, and it was necessary to send a little distance to procure them. The anxiety during this interval was hor- rible ; frove fatal. And liow doubly horril)le must have been the feelings of the person suspended above the dreadful gulph,the thunder of the storm around him, and every wave shaking the r«K'k upon which he lay ! lint the rugged spot on the r«»ck had still pres»'rved him. He had remained without motion ; and when we ivached the rock, he was i)recisely where 1 liad left liim. No great ex- ertion was required to extricate him. The rope at once enabled him to ascend the ledge, and place him- self above it ; and although he had lost his colour, and his appetite f(»r breakfast that morning, he was philosopher enough to say, that he did not regret what had occurred, sin;>e 'he had an op])ortunity of know ing what are the feelings of a man whose life hangs bv a thread. But if the storm had not \yeer\ the cau.se of death to this young man, it had unfortunately brought death elsewhere. Wlu n 1 returned to breakfast, 1 learned that a small vessel had been wrecked during the night, within two miles of liieretz, and that all the crew had perished. What their numbers were, could not be a.scertain»'d. i walked, when the stoi-m had a little subsided, to the spot where the catastro].he had taken place. The rocks lay about three hundred yards from shore. All that could be seen was a part of the hull fixed upon thi' rock ; part of the timbers, masts, \.c., were thrown uj^on the shore ; and the Ixtdiesof three men had already been found, and carried to the nearest \illage. This was the only storm that troubled tli<- iiay of Hiseav during the' fortnight that I remained at Itieret/ ; all the rest of the time, it was us smooth as a mill-pond. I had always been accustomed to associate with the Bay of Biscay, storms, and a broad heavy swell, ever iMlling in upon the coast ; and I felt something like disapix'intment at the l)erteet tranquillity that lay upon it during the fii-st week I resided at Hieretz.* But even in calm the sea has variety at Bieret/. ; for the incoming tide always occasions surf, and some swell aiuong the rocks and cavities. So much for the coast. Now for Bieret/. itself. This charming little retreat stands upon mounts and hollows. The ground back from the ditts is extremely rugged, and the ht«us«'s are j.ut down wherever a platfonu or an agreeable slope is found, and where a view of the sea nuiy be had ; but this is not always ]»ossible to be obtaint>d, ov\ing to the inequalitv of the ground. Tlu' place is built wiih- out auN onler. Th.-re is no street : every one who builds," has chosen his situation without consulting any general plan. There are altogether forty or fifty houses, all white, and generally with green verandas, and many have balconies on the roof. The accommodation is generally good, and not exor- bitantly dear. Some have their tables served from the traiteurs, and s«»me have dinner cooked at home. The house in which 1 had an apartment was the most choice in the place : it was under the light- house, which is, of course, situated u])on the most ele- vated part of the coast. It stands upon a little level piece of ground, which forms a promontory about a hundred yards long, and half that distance across, with two sides dii)ping perpendicularly into the sea, the others sloping down to the rocks and caverns. The view from this promontory is mag- nificent. In front is the ocean, in storm or in calm : on the east, the c(»ast of France stretches in an immense curve, white and low ; while to the west, the bold outline of the Spanisli coast reaches in another vast segment almost as far as the Bilbao. Looking towards the south, the pictures(jue line of the Pyrenees, close at hand with all their peaks, and hollows, and shadows, stretches into both France and Sj)ain ; while nearer still, the pretty white buildings of Bieret/., intermixed with tama- risk-trees, form an agreeable and picturesque fore- ground to the fertile country that lies between the sea and the mountains. It was a Jewess who kept the house in which I lived. My bed-room com- manded the line of both the French and Spanish coiists, and was in front of the sea. I had the use of the saloon below ; and breakfast, dinner, and tea were provided, all for three francs and a half per day — not half the price of a bed-room at Cauterets. I had never less than two, sometimes three kinds of fish at dinner, and always an excellent dessert. Wine was not, of course, included ; but it costs about r)d. per bottle at Bayonne. As a bathing-place, Bieretz is absolutely perfect. There is a creek about three hundred yards in depth, not above fifty yards across the mouth, but widening into a small semicircle. Rocks, four or five hundred feet liigh. Hank both sides ; and the little waves curl over upon the hardest and most beautiful sand in the world. At all times, whether at full or ebb-tide, there is sufficient depth of water in this creek for the bather ; and yet the timid may find ground twenty or thirty yards within water- mark. Upon the smooth sand, a little way beyond water-mark, several manphrS are pitched for the use of bathers ; and m(»rning, noon, and evening, but esj)ecially at the wariuest time of the day, this little creek presents the liveliest scene imaginable. Both sexes bathe in this creek ; but gentlemen, of course, wear drawers, which are provided by the keepers of the marqui'es ; and, thus attired, the water is quite a lounge, where the ]>rettiest conver- sations are carried on. The ])ersons who come to Bieretz for the sake of l)athing, especially the females, pass half their time in the water. No one remains a shorter time in the sea than an hour ; and 1 have seen the same persons bathing before breakfast, before dinner, and again in the evening. Most of the ladies wear l)onnets, and never go under the water, but are i)rovided with bladders, with which they attemjit to swim, and sometimes venture out of their depth. Unless the wind blow- strong from the north-west, the creek is always calm. A storm witliout from any other (juarter, onlv makes a little commotion within, hut no waves or sui'f. The water is beautifully clear ; and in sunny days, the concentrated rays, and the reflec- tion from the sides of the creek, render it a tepid bath. I was not able to discover, that the practice of spending so much time in the water proved at all injurious to health. I particularly remarked three French ladies, who passed not less than four houi*s every day in the water, and they were pic- tures of health. This is verj' opposite from the practice recommended by the medical men of this country. One is not obliged at Bieretz to bathe in the creek I have been speaking of. There are many lesser retired creeks, or shelving rocks, suited to all degrees of ])rowess, courage, and modesty. Many hours may be delightfully spent on the sea-shore at Bieretz. If the western headland be doubled, a fine stretch of sands extends far beyond the Spanish lines. To double the headland is in- deed somewhat hazardous ; for the only path that descends to these sands is a naiTOw track down the face of the cliffs, and a steady step is required. But the sands are well worthy of this little peril ; and my evening walk was generally there. Here, too, the most timid bather may find a shelving beach, and the most retiring need fear no intrusion. An- other pleasant, but more dangerous walk, is among the great masses of rock, and the various sandy creeks that lie among them, which are always left hard and dry by the ebbing tide. Curious shells are picked up ; strange fishes are found in the little pools which are here and there left ; and beautiful and fantastic caves and arches are discovered among the rocks. But such rambles are dangerous. In some places, the tide has accumulated sand above the surrounding level ; and after having lin- gered in such spots for a time, one may find in re- turning, that the water has already flowed through all the lower channels, and that the retreat is cut off". This twice happened to myself. Once I was able to leap across the channel ; the other time I was obliged to wade nearly up to the middle. One resource, however, would always remain — to climb to the summit of one of the higher rocks, which, unless in stormy weather, are not covered at high water, and wait the ebb-tide. But a st'/o?/r at Bieretz may be charmingly diver- sified by excursions more distant than the beach. A cossible to i)ass one's time more a<,'reeably than I did there i A stroll u}>on tin- grassy jilatiorm, and a breath of sea-air, created an appetite for briakfast. A ride .'/, r>ir(,f>t to liayonne- a seat among the rocks — a tepid bath of an hour in the creek — j)leasantly brou-^ht round the dinner-hour ; and the fish were so fresh, the Pyrenean mutton so sweet, and the Jewess's puddings so excellent, that an appetiti' was scarcely rtMiuired. Then what could be a plea- santer dessert than the conversation of two intelli- gent men who lived in the same h(»use { As the evening; a|)proached, all the i/Uc of lUeretz assem- bled on tlie platform; and it was a magniticent spectacle to see the sun sink in the ocean, and the coasts of France and Spain fade away in the deepen- in<^ dusk. The athiii;; (quarters, and in a delightful climate, to step into the steam-boat for IJourdeaux, without any terror of the 1 Jay of liis- cav, w hich in summer is oftener smooth than rough. I'our-and-twenty hours fr(»m liniudt au\, in a com- modious diligence, will In'ing tlie traveller to liay- oime ; and another hour will place him at Hieretz, wiiere he niay find out the Jewess wh«» lives in the lighthouse, and sjxnd his time as niucli to his .satis- faction as I spent mine. In hve days from Liver- pool, one may be in Hieretz. 1 can have no doubt that this chapter will till the house of the Jewess the- ensuing sunnn< r ; and I ha\e as little doubt, that her talent in the cookery of fish, and in the manufactory of bread-pudding, will induce some to repeat their visit. CHAPTER XXXV. JOl'RNKY 1 lioM liAO.NKRKS DK LOKllON TO PAU. Retrospect— Journey troiii Ikij^Mieres de Louelum to Hagneres de l{i;:orre— The Caroiuie— A Tradition of tJie Holy Wars — Journey to Pau— .^t. I't — Hetliarani and its Cavalry- French Honesty— The Provinte of lUarn and its Produc- tions — Approach to i'au. I WAS now about to bid a tinal farewell to the Py- renees — to change the varied charms of mountam- scenory for tiie soft fertility of the plains of liearn ; and th*e solitudi- and sil.iice of the valleys, for the bustle and din of Hourdeaux. I entered the Pyre- nees with highly-excited ex]»ectati<>ns ; and they were fully and delightfully realised. The misre- presentations of tlu> traveller and the novelist had led to grievous disappointment in the southern pro- vinces of Prance ; but, trusting neither to the tra- veller nor the novelist, because, knowing that in nK.untains of a certain altitude, striking and inter- esting scenes cannot fail to be disclosed, 1 felt per- suaded that, among the Pyrenees, I should find the beauty which I sought after. 1 have endeavoured to c«)nvey to the reader s(»me idea of the charm of Pyrenean scenery ; and if, in my desire to do jus- tice to it, my descriptions have been too much ex- temled, I have only this apology to make, that, in comj>arison with the Alps, the Pyrenees are almost unknown ;— that there is scarcely any record of the traveller's observations upon them, excepting the observations of those who hare contined themselves cliieHy to geolo^^ical in(|uiry ; and that, therefore, it was' a duty to speak as fully as my limits would permit, of a country so worthy of the traveller's regards, and yet so rarely visited by him. The re- maiiKler of this volume will have more to do with men and cities than nature — themes not so much to my liking ; but which must, nevertheless, occupy the i)age of the writer who is ambitious of convey- ing information, as will as of atfording entertain- ment. 1 left Bagneres de Louchon upon one of those mornin«,'s, which, to the pedestrian, are the most delightful — the dull, tran<|uil morning', when the sky is shrout ten leagues before me ; and therefore was early upon tlu- road. 1 had found a conveyance tlu- «lay bt fore for my jtortinantc au to i'au; and 1 was thenfore unincumbered with either horse or guide. This 1 call travelling luxu- riously. Two K'a;;ues and a half from Jiai^'iicres de Lou- chon, a little beyond the hamlet of C'i(>rp, the road lies along the side ui the river Pitpie ; and this may still be called a mountaiii-ioad. On the east, indeed, the coiintrv is onlv hilU ; but on the west lies a mountain-ran;,'i', which is the boundary be- tween the Low and the High Pyrenees. The Pied to breakfast, at a very small auberge, where, liow- ever, oifc (III lait was attainable ; and, after a shoi't rest, I proceeded on my journey. Soon after leav- ing Cierp, the Piijue mingles its waters with the int)re celebrated ( iaronne, destined to fertilize the southern plains of France — to ceopled. I ])assed numerous hamlets, and several villages ; and the ai)])earance of the land as well as of the peo])le, announced a dei)artiire from the m(»untains. At a i)lace called St. Bertrand de Cominges, my path and the road no longer lay to- gether. The road struck to the right to St. Gaudens and Thoulouse ; but my direction lay to the left, uj» the bank of the NkU' to Ln linrtlu'. I found only a foot-path by the river-side ; but this was suf- ficient. There was no mistaking the way ; and, after a pleasant walk of about three hours from St. Ber- trand, 1 saw La liarthc on the ojtposite side of the river. There was no bridge across, and oi)})osite to Jia Barthe the stream was not fordable ; but about lialf a mile up the river, I found a spot, where, by wading only knee-dee]), and making a few long steps fnmi rock to rock, across deeper channels, I attained the o])posito bank, and reached La Barthe. Here 1 dined, and iiKjuired my road to liagneres de Bigorre. I 1 'arned that there was no road, not even a track, and that the distance was about th ve leagues and a half. A peasant lad at the auberge undertook to guide me across the country ; and, as I was desirous of reacliing Bag- neres that night, I had no remedy but to put myself iiiuh'r his jjrotection. Our road lay through green acclivities and sweet pastoral scenes ; but, at one place, a novel and highly ])ictiires(ine scene jireseiited itself. It was a deej) valley, not half a mile across, bounded by rocks; and ii}>on the summit of the rocks, opposite to each other, stood the ruins of two castles. These were the castles of EsihtIic and Loinine ; and the guide narrated a tradition of th(>se i)laces as we went alon-^. The lords of these two castles were enemies, and constantly disputed with one another the pos- session of the' valley that lay between their castles ; but, along w ith this enmity, each was enamoured of the wife of the other, though the ladies them- selves loved their own lords, and gave no encou- ra<,'ement to the enemies of their liusbands. At this time the crusafh's were published ; and both of these nobles resolved to forget private animosities for a timi', and join the standard of the Cross. It so hajtpeiied, however, that after travelling — the trndition does not sav whether in compaiiv or not— during several days, the devil intered into both their liearts, and they both reasoned after this manner : — " My enemy has gone to the Holy Wars, and has left both his lands and his wife unpro- tected. 1 hate him, l)ut I love Ins wife. What hindei-s me from returning, and making the most of his absence ?" And so both the lord of Epesche and ;he lord of Lomine returned, and took the road, not ti) their own castles, but to the castles of lach other. J{ut it so liaiii>eiiey the same kiml power that had sent the vision — to seek each other, and communicate what had ha}>]>ened. Accordingly, these ladies left their own castles to cross the valley, and met each other by the way ; and having communicated the mutual vi.sion, they resolved upon a method of avoidin*; the danger, and of at the same time proving to their lords their own atfection, and the Divine interposi- tion by which tliey had been warned of the future. They (letermined to change castles ; and that very day they put their resolution into effect. Meanwhile, their lords arrived under cover of nitrht, each at the castle of his enemv, and were greatly surprised to tind that no wonder was excited by their return, for the ladies had forewarned their household of what was to be expected ; but still greater was their surprise, when, u])on being ushered into the castle hall, eacli beheld his own spouse. The explanation that followed wrought a miraculous change. Touched with the atfection of tlieir own wives, they were convinced that this re- conciliation was the will of God, since its means had been miraculously revealed in a vision. They abjured their mutual enmity — swore unalterable fidelity to their own wives — and set out in company for the Holy Land. It was nearly dark before we arrived at Bagneres de Bigorre, where, the reader will recollect, I have already conducted him. The distance had ])roved greater than it vvas said to be, which is always the case with unmeasured distances ; and we had been several times obliged to deviate from our course, in order to tind convenient fords across streams, narrow, but deep and rapid. A tired and hungry traveller cannot arrive at a better i)lace than Bag- neres de Bigorre, for there is nothing he desires that cannot be obtained there. Next morning 1 left Bagneres for Lourdes. This is a truly charming road. It lies all the way along the foot of the Pyrenees, among the loveliest scenes, created by gentle undulations, and verdant knolls, and meadows, and cottages ; and the Pyrenees, with their clefts and shadows, and scattered woods, rising on the left. Of Lourdes, I need add nothing to what 1 have already observed on my way to St. Sauveur. I left it for Pau the next morning ; and having; now descended from the mountains, and the weather being insutferably hot, 1 hired a m'tclic for my journey. The banks of the Gave, along which the road lies all the way from Lourdes to Pau, are of the most j>icturesqiie description. We are no longer among mountains, but among wooded hills, generally clothed to the summit ; and the green beauty of the tields that lay along the river-side, reminded me of the Semmeiithall in Switzerland. Passhig near the Lac de Lourdes, which 1 had already visited, I reached St. J**' ; which was founded in 10:V2, by William duke of (jascony, because he had re- covered his health in a journey which he made in these j)ai'ts ; and at the same time he founded and endowed a monastery of Benedictines, which he dedicated to God and St. Peter ; and so the town obtained the name of St. Pe. The duke of Gasconv filled the convent with rich offerings, which have long since been l)etter employed. St. Pe contains abinit three thousand inhabitants ; and, besides the laboui-s of agriculture, which are limited by the quantity of forest that lies in the vicinity, they occupy themselves in the manufacture of combs and of cufico, and also find employment in the iron P' ■li' 108 TAU. [chap. XXXVI. -J mines of Loub'w. Tlie Hituation of St. Pe is beauti- ful. Soon after })asHing St. Pe, we leave the de- partment of the High I'yrenees, and enter the Low Pyrenees. Another league brought us to Bdharam, a place of mueh interest to the devotees of the neighV)our- hood, owing to its Mount Calvary. Ht-re, after I had brcaktasted, I walked n\\ this hill l)y a /ig-zag path, at every corner of which is a stdtion, or little chapel, in which the most grotesque and ludicrous groui)s in wo(»d represt'iit the different circumstances in the passion of our Saviour. This was not the season of pilgrimage ; but I was informed, that, in the month of September, a vast concourse of devo- tees C(mie hither, to warm their devotion, and pur- chase holy trinkets. The sale of these is, however, never suspended. A long table is placed at the foot of the ascent, covered with rosaries, crosses, rings and anmlets, all blessed at some shrine ; and, as the woman who sold them assured me, some of them even blessed by his holiness himself. But the walk to the summit of this mount does not require any adventitious attraction ; it is pleasant and sliady, and the view from the platform is itself worth the ascent. At this [)lace, where there are so many helps to morality, 1 was robbed of some triHes, the first time I ever suffered the smallest depredation in France ; and I think it only just to record here, my belief in the great honesty of the Freiu-h peo- ple, who cannot be eharged with that disposition towards petty theft, which so disgraces the people of most oth»-r countries. This superior htmesty may be partly owing to a natural virtue ; but 1 suspect tliat the ditterence in morals, and especially in the jtrevalence of robl)ery, is, in most cases, to be attributed chieily to the difference in the eondi- tion of the peoph'. This sutticiently ex[ilains the difference between France and England, in a com- parison of the (juantity of crime in the two coun- tries ; for, in the fonner country, and especially in the south, where the necessaries of life are so much more easily obtained than in England, there is small comparative temptation towards dei)redations upon the property of others. However, an excep- tion was found at St. Pe. I left a small basket containing some trifling articles in the oiftclw, which stood at the door of the auberge while 1 breakfast»'d ; and when 1 examined the basket, I found all that was worth stealing had been ab- stracted—among other things, a ])ui-se with some silver, and a , forms the most beautiful of all fences. This district, excepting the valleys of the Pyrenees, is certainly the most beautiful })art of France ; and although we are no longer among the I'yrenees, they are seen bounding the horizon on the south, and not at so great a distance as to de- i>rive lis of the effect of their shadows and inecjuali- ties. It was Sunday as I approached Pan ; and I saw, therefore, to the greatest advantage, the- i)ea- santry of those parts dressed in their holiday-clothes, and engaged in those rural pastimes which are per- mitted on that day by the faith which they i)rofesK. 1 reached Pan before dinner, and alighted at the h6Ul dc la Porte, the best in the town. CHAPTER XXXVI. I'Af. Ejniroius of Pau— Pan as a Residence— The Chateau of ilenri Quatre— The King's Cradle— Journey from Pau to Itourdeaux— French Accommodation— First-rate and Infe- rior Inns Pai' h.as always enjoyed the rej)utation of being one entines through the channing undulating country that sm-rounds the town. Crain, meatiows, and vine, diversify the scenery ; and innumerable country-houses are everywhere scattered around. I wiis particidarly delighted with the number and extraordinary beauty of the weeping-willows, which ornament a beautiful slope that lies to the south of the city, and which hang also above the river. Nothing can exceed the beauty of some of the promenades in the neighbourhood of Pau. Some lie along the side of the Cave, othtrs along the bank of the smaller river Kees ; and within the town there is a largt' and shaded platform, which commands a magnilicent view over the surrounding country. Pau is a great resort for strangers, particularly English ; and with the excejjtion t»f Buyonne, upon whose advantages 1 have alrea middle of the tenth centm-y. The site of the castle is finely chosen. From the towi>rs of the castle, and even from the windows, a ravishing jn'ospect is disclosed. The whole province of Hi^ixm — certainly one of the most fertile in the world— lies like* a map below ; and the majestic range of the Pyrenees is the back-ground of this ricir])icture. When the atmosphere is clear, the Brcche de Roland can be discovered from the summit. 1 was not long in Pau before paying a visit to the castle, the birth-j)lace of that monarch. " (Jui fnt de ses ^ujet.s le vaimiueur et le pere." Every thing remains as of old. The ancient portrait's are there — the old furniture ; and even the cnidle of the king is seen in the chamber where he was born. The monarch alone is wanting : his statue, which stands in the vestibule, is meant to sni)}.ly his i)lace. The cradle of the king is of tor- toiseshell ; and during the revolution it narrowly escaped destruction. It was resolved, at the time of the revolution, by the infuriated madmen who imitated the exami»le of the Parisians, to burn this relic as a pul)lic yV/f. But, fortunately, an iidiabi- tant of the town, ^I. de Beaumjard, was in possession of a cradle of the siime material, and not unlik that preserved in the castle. This gentleman com- municated with the porter of the chateau ; and having secretly introduced his own cr-adle into the castle, it was afterwards brought out as the true cradle, and was burnt in the square by the infu- riated ])opnlace ; and thus the cradle of Uenn (^uatn- was ])reserved. But although this relic has been preserved, the castle itself suttered greatly during the time of the revolution. It was at that time used as military (piarters ; and the sculpture which once embellished the walls of the interior is so nmch mutilated and destroyed— partly perhaps intentionally, and partly by the effects of tinu — that the subjects of it are no longer discernible. In oth.-r n-spects, the castle has-been repaired, and the repairs have amounted to u[»wards of 700,000 francs. At a short distance from the town, ascending the Gave, and turning towards the m<.untains, are the ruins of the chateau of Coaraze, the outer walls and one of the towers of which are yet standing. There, the early childhood of Henry iV. was jmssed, under the care of the baroness de Moissens, his governess. That was a fine wish (.f this noble-minded king, expressed in these words :— " Je veux, que le moindre paysan mette une poule dans son pot le Dinianche." The inhabitants of Pau have not to travel so far as the Jlxnhs Pyrim^es to benefit *by medicinal s|)rings. Lii< eaux bonius and U^ eaux chaiide^, are both within eight leagues of Pau ; and thither, ac- cordingly, many inhabitants repair during " the season."* But the English generally take the longer journey to Bagneres de Bigorre, which is more fashionable. Les eaux bonnes and Us eaux chaudes have long been known. In 1591, the sister of Henrv IV. visited them ; and previous to this time, M. de Thou, who measured the altitude of the Py- renees, had visited them, and drank twenty-five glasses of water every day. Having satisfied my curiosity at Pau, I left it en dllhienre for Bourdeaux. Most of this journey being performed during the night, I cannot enter much into detail ; but I do not greatly err in saying, that the road from Pau to Bourdeaux lies through a rich country ; and that the banks of the tiaronne, which we travelled along, afford those agreeable and rmnte views, which might be expected from the magni- tude of its stream, and from the southern latitude of the country through whii-h it Hows. I was greatly surprised, however, in this very fertile and abundant country, to find so great a scant of pro- visions in the inns. Some accident had happened to the diligence from Bourdeaux to Pau ; and horses not being in readiness for us at the usual stations, we were obliged to dine, sup, and breakfast,.at inns where we were not expected. It was impossible to avoid contrasting the condition of these inns with the inns of England on any of our great roads. Tra- velling upon any of our great roads, one could find no difficulty in obtaining a comfortable dinner at any respectable inn ; but, in this journey to Bourdeaux, we were half- starved ; and a few eggs, and one or two ill-fed fowls, were all that could be procured for a very numerous c(mi})any ; and when the diligence stopped to breakfast at a town of some considerable extent, neither cofiee nor milk could be obtained at the inn ; and I was obligid to run over half the town l)efore being able to procure those articles, which, in France, are considered the chief necessaries of life. I arrived in Bourdeaux about mid-day, and established mvself in an excellent apartment in the hotel de r Europe— the best among the many good hotels in the city. I always go to the best hotel. There is nothing gained to economy, and a great deal lost to comfort, by going to an inferior house. All that is required on the part of the economical traveller, who goes to the first hotel, is to ask the price of his apartment. It is in this that the chief ditierence in expense consists ; for great establish- ments have apartments of all ijrad*!S. 'w CHAPTER XXXVII. BOURDEAUX. Bourdeaux little visited— Historical Sketch— Climate and Air of Bourdeaux— The Quay and Bridge— Table of the Comparative Dimensions of Brid^^es- The Theatre— The New Hospital— Clmrches— Learned Societies— Puhlic In- struction— Antiquities— Situation and Environs— Condi- tion of the Peasantry— The Inhabitants of the Landes— Society in Bourdeaux— The Chateau de Montesquieu. Bourdeaux is less visited by the traveller than any other great city in Europe, excepting the Spanish 1^1 110 BOURDEAUX. [chap. XXXVII. cities ; and thv rcasnn nt iliis it ia not difficult to , vj.laiii. 1 iK't speak of mercantile men, who visit liounli'iiux upon Imsiness ; l)Ut of travellers who nuiki' a r<>t^(i- iCajrhiient. Buunh-aux is not on tlu' road either to Vienna, or Switzerland, or Italy. If one goes to Bourdcaux, it must be to see Honrdcaux, and nothiiiL,' else ; for to include Bour- doaux in a tour to aiiv other country, would be a (/t/(.//r of many hundred miles. And yet I know very few cities in Europe more ma said in favour of each of these (»pinions ; but the best-founded conjectur(> is considered to be tluit which places the tbumlatiou of the city shoilly after the invasion and con(iuest of the (iauls by Julius C'a'sar. Like every other great city, its be- gimiings wi-re small ; and, in(h>ed, although often partially rebuilt and improved, its present splen- dour is t<. be dated only as far back as the reign of Louis XV. In its early years, Bourdcaux was successively subject to the Visigoths, the Tranks, the Saracens, and the Normans- the kings of France — the kings of Aassed un- der the sovereignty of Henry of IMantagenet, duke of Normandy, and count of Anjou, presumjttive heir to the English crown ; and, after long pro- tracted wars, Bourdcaux, and the whole of ( Juitume, con(iuered by Charles VIL, were finally annexed to the French cr«>\\ n. The etymology of the ancient luune Jjard'ujala, or, according t<) Strabo, Jiunhrahi, has not been explained. The modern w«)rd Bourdcaux admits of an easy explanation ; for it is almost literally Uyrd (It.^ <'(iu; or, Imji-Jc (remix, which is truth ; but this affords no exi»Ianation of the ancient Jhird'i- Landes, must necessiuily be charged with hu- miditv. Acconlingly, the atmosphere of JJ(Uir- deaux is m«tst conuuoidy moist and mild. During the winters, which are generally niiny, the ther- mometer seldoni descends below the fifth or fourth degree of Reaumur. In summer, it i-anges fn»m twenty t«) twenty-five of Jieaumur. 'I'liis humid atmt»sphere, and high temperature during tlu- sinn- mer, together with the \ icinity of tlu- marshes, is productive of freercdeusi- des aacious streets, and liandsouu- buildings that line them, and the spl.n.luiu -.1 many of the public buildings, are -.arerlN \n be equalled in any other city ; and I have no lie-itatien in :iiHrmiug, that the <|uay or ]iort of Bourdeaux pr. -t nts a fo/'y/* may embrace the whol«- extent of this magnificint arch, oric cannot hesitate in according to it a de- cided superiority over any coup d'ail ])rcscnted to us, in either the French or in the English mctro- jiolis. The streets of Bourdcaux are so crowded, there is so much bustle and traffic, and the inhabitants have so much of a business-air, that, in walking the streets, one is strongly reminded of London, Few loungers are to be si-en. Every one walks as if he had somecrratul ; and waggons, carts, coaches, and even private can-iages, are more frequent than in any j>rovincial city ov town that I can at this monu'nt recollect, with the excei)tion, jicrhajis, of Liverpool. I spent tlu- whole of the hrst day I was in Bourdcaux on tlie that the work was com- menced. The chief difhculties which oj)])()Scd the construction of the britlgi-, we-re the depth of wa- ter, the foree of the currents, and, abovt- all, the instability of the bed of the river. The general depth of the river is fn»m eighteen to thii-ty feet ; and the flow of the ti(U' adds eight(-en ieet to this depth. The current, with an ebbing tide, flows at the rate of wo k^s than nine feet ])er second — up- wards of six miles per hour ; and the bed of the liver is a loose sand, and far from a level surface. Countries are generally jiroud of tlu- length ol their bridgi-s. The Kngli-h are proud of \\ ater- loo-bridge ; the Prussians, of the bridge over the Elbe ; the French of the Font de B. urdeaux ; and it is rather a wound to national vanity, ti) tell an Englishman that there i?. a longer than Waterloo- bridge ; or a Frenchman, that the Font de Bour- dcaux is not the lonu» st in the world. For my own i>art, 1 was certainly national enough to be- CHAP. XXXVIl.] BOURDEAUX. Ill lieve, that the iengtii and breadth of Waterloo- bridge exceeded that of any other ; and did feel some little disappointment when I discovered my error. But it is an error ; and I am therefore ])ound to rectify it. The following will show at once the comparative dimensions t)f the most re- markable bridges in Europe. The measurements I state in French metres and hundred parts, as 1 obtained them from a French work : I Length of N.VMKS o. BaxnoKS. "^eTtt Butments. Bridge of Bourdeaux 7 over the Garonne S Waterloo Bridge - Bridge of Tours over I he Loire met. 486 377 434 c. 68 18 Breadth between the Parapet.-!. Num- ber of Arches. Diameter of Arches. Thick- ne.ss of Piers. met. c. met. c. met. c. 14 86 17 26 49 4 21 12 80 9 36 .. G 9 14 60 15 24 40 4 87 7 60 18 Very nn-'qual. Un- equal. 10 45 18 16 17 10 .. Pontdela Guilotierc? ! k_„ across the Rhone i j Bridge of Dresden > . ,, across th e Elbe i[Z_ From this table, then, it a])iiears, that the Pont de liourdeaux is one hundred and nine vards ion- ger than Waterloo-bridge ; and that the Pont de la Guilotiere is eighty-four yards litnger than the Pont de Bourdcaux. In Invadth, the Pont de Bourdcaux and the Pont de Tours have both the advantage of Watci'loo-bridge. But the elegance of a bridge depending chiefly upon the span of the arches, it is ])robable that Waterloo-bridge nuiy still be the most beautifid, though infei'ior both in length and in breadth to the Pont de Bourdcaux. lint wherever the ] (reference may be due, the bridge of Bourdcaux is a beautiful structure, and not only an ornament, but a most essential conve- nience to the city. This convenience is brought very forcibly befuv the notice of the ti'aveller who journeys from Bourdcaux to Paris ; for, after passing along the Pont de Bourdcaux at the rate at which a French diligence travels, he ai'rives at the Dordogne, across which there is no bridge ; and although he is ferried across by a very convenient nuKdiiue, the delay and discotnfort of a ferry are very strongly cuutrasted with the convenience of a bridge. 1 believe the construction of this bridge is sin- gular, and to architects iiUeresting. There are arched galleries between the top of the arches and the level of the bridge, through which one is able to walk from one end to the other. The whole interior is a continuation of arches ; and there is, besides, an ait is made level with the sttige at jileasure ; by means of which con- trivance, the building serves both as a theatre and a ball-room. But beautiful as this theatre is, the people of Bourdcaux do not sujiport it. It is often almost deserted, and is never well filled. This is certainly surprising, considering the known ])ar- tiality of the French for theatrical entei'tainments, and in a citv so wealthv as Bourdi-aux. On the night when I was present, at a representation of a ti*agedy, the boxes were nearly empty, and the pit was not much more than half full ; and although the ])erformance was highly respectable, the au- dience appeared to pay very little attention to it. But the bal/et which followed the })lay was much more honoured. Every one gave his serious atten- tion to it ; and the interest excited was shown iti the aj)])lause also which it received. Even if there were no representation, the theatre of Bourdcaux would be worth visiting, owing to the magnificence of its interior. But the theatre of Bourdcaux is not the only building in this city that is superior to any edifice dedicated to the same purpose in any other city. The new ho.spital is also u|)on a scale (tf magnifi- cence and comfort beyond what is to be found in any other town in Europe. I dedicated the second of mv davs at Bourdcaux to a visit to this iiospital, and was equally surprised at its extent, and de- lighted with the admirable arrangements that per- vade every part of it. There is nothing that this hos])ital does not contain. It includes seven hun- dred and ten beds for sick persons, and eighteen chambers for the accommodation of ])ei>i;ons who pay for the attentions they receive. It contains baths, bake-houses, courts, an a])othecarv's-shop, water-re.servoirs, gardens, and acconnnodation for medical men. There are also in the hospital thirty- four re-servoii-s for water, as a provision against fire, containing fourteen huiulred and ten hogs- heads. I need scarcely add, that, in the cleanliness of every de})artment, the hospital is ])ei*fect ; and that, in the smallest minuticc, every thing is found that can contribute cither to health or to comfort. The Bordelais are justly proud of this noble insti- tution. There are many fine churches in Bourdcaux, particularly the church of St. Andre, whose towers, in the Gothic stvle, are trulv beautiful. The church of St. Michael also is well worthy of a vi.sit : but descriptions of churches are tedious, and I always avoid them if })ossible. Bourdcaux possesses many societies for the en- couragement of science and literature, particularly the Royal Academy, the Limuean Society, the Royal Medical Society, and the Mu$te dela VUU'de BoiirdrdK.r, which includes the library, the cabinet of natural history, and the gallery of i)ictures. The library had its origin at the time of the destruction of the convents, when the libraries w hich belonged BOURDEAUX. [chap. XXXVIl. to tlu-in vveiv remcvod, and united into one. It contains about a hundred thousand voUiineB, and manv rare works and nianuscni-t^^. Among tlie latter is the fir^t French translat! a,rimniUde X company of pei-sons, zeab.us f.,r the adoption of the best system of husbandry, formed themselves int<. a society, and, in MVl'S, obtained a royal charter Produce of every kind, the culture ot forest and fruit-trees, and tfie breeding of cattle, all enter the views of the s<.cietv ; and parcels of land are lent to individuals who may be desirous of trying any thing novel, upon their own charges. I could enumerate many other societies existing in Bourdeaux, having for their object the improve- ment of man's hitellectual and moral condition ; but enumerations of this kind are tedious, and convey little information, and less entertainment. The antiiiuarian will find in liourdeaux some remains of anticiuity. Amr>ng othei-s there are the ruins of an amphitheatre, ot which, however, little remains excepting the gate ; the remains of the palace of the ancient dukes of A.iuitama ; some vestiges of a temple of Diana ; oi a tountain ; of another temple, and of the ancient port. But it requires the mania of anticiuariamsm fully to enjoy these vestiges of other days. The situation of Bourdeaux is very remarkable. Let a stranger sail down the Garonne, and so arnve in Bourdeaux, or let him descend the heights that lie between the Dordogne and Bourdeaux, and he would 8av,in either case, that Bourdeaux >^a^ «'t"- ated 111 liie midst of fertility and beauty. But let him arrive n. this city from the west, having tra- versed the Lu,M^; or let him disembark near the mouth of the (r.nnvU, and travel up its banks, and he will feel astonishment that a city bo great and magnificent a. Bourdeaux should be placed in the midst of barrenness. I know of no city whose vicinity combines, in so narrow limits the utmost fertility and beauty, and the most cheerless bar- reuiiei. The banks of the Garonne, above Bour- deaux, are as beautiful, and more striking, than the banks of the Loire ; and the height-s that he to the north-east of Bourdeaux ainj also beau- tifully broken into hill and dale, and charmingly divei-sihed by the variety of their productions; while, on the other hand, the LandA^ present a vast and cheerless desert ; andtheDu/u-sof theGironde a wide district of sand-hills and lagunes, the most dismal of all kinds of scenery. The districts around Bourdeaux may be thus summed up :— numerous vinevards, less or more ])recious— stony hills— stripes of the utmost fertility lying along the nvers —dangerous and unhealthy marehes— seas of naked sand— ti-acts of stunted pine, and arid deserts, over- flowed in winter, and burnt u,. in summer, strewn with heath, and to which the horizon is the only boundary ;— these are the Landes. ^ . ^ . The condition of the peasantry ..f the department is, in general, only midiocre. The labourer m the wine-districts, in j.articular, may be called p.>or. The vinevards of Bourdeaux are the property ot hirge prJi.rietors ; and a country wholly a wme- countiw, otfers fewer resources t<. tho labourer than where the crops are varie.l, aiul husbandry more general. The price of labour is not however, low in this department. Two francs and a half per day are suthcient to procure the comforts of hie m tiiat countrv ; but the character of the peasantry is not marked bv industry. The nature of the climate perhaps, engenders i.lleness ; and the cheapness ot brandv, from the refuse of the whie, is an incite- ment lo intemperance. The character of the m la- bitants of Bourdeaux and its neighb,.urhood has always been remarkable for its greater placidity, thairthat which distinguishes the character oi the French nation in most other parts. Duriiig the time of the Revolution, Bourdeaux was not distin- guished tor such acts of atrocity and outrage as disgraced the .)ther great cities of the empire— a fact that mav be partly accounted for m a city whose inhabitAnts chieHy live by the produce ot the land and its export ; for, among a p..pulation ot this kind, there is always a better ieehiig, and a more intimate union, among the p(»or and the rich, than prevails in those cities which live by their manufactures. • , , •. . With respect to the condition of the inhabitants of the LamUs of B.mrdeaux, many and various opinions are to be found ; f.)r my own part, although I have passed thn.ugh the LaiuUs, I have had but scantv opixu-tunitv of examining the condition ot the p'eople, an.l must therefore rely upon the au- thonties which are the most worthy of credit. Ihe author of the FAu.ies admlnistnUln's ^iir hs Landes, speaking of the inhabitants of this district, says— " Atfaiblis par un regime malsain, ils arrivent a 1 age ou conmienee la facultd de retlechir, sans 1 instruc- tion qui la prepare ; sans la force physuiue qui sell CHAP. XXXVIII.] WINES OF BOURDEAUX. 113 a son ddveloppement. . . . Des vetements grossiers, toujoui*8 mal assortis a la temperature du climat, les accableiit pendant I'e'te sans les preserver du fi'oid pendant Thiver. . . . Conduits par doe usages, prevenus centre les innovations, guide's par un in- tdret sans calcul, peu accessibles aux affections de la nature, ils semblent reserver leur sensibilitd pour les animaux qui ferment leur unique richesse. Uno nature severe, et dont I'aspect ne varie jamais, un retour constant des memos occupations, un exces de niisere tel qu'il e'mousse jusqu'au sen- timent du malaise, paralysent leur intelligence, et les rendent incapables de ces pense'es dnergetiques (jui donnent a riiomme la force ne'cessaire pour se roidir centre le malheur et dchapper aux conditions facheuses de son existence." There is doubtless much truth in this picture. At the same time, although, in comparison with the inhabitants of more favoured districts, the sum of enjoyment which falls to the sliare of the shepherd of the Landes may be few, yet the accustomed usages of his class probably content him. He is miserable, no doubt, in one sense ; but he is not himself aware of his ow n misery. He has mure than enough to satisfy the wants of nature ; for the inhabitant of the Landes is not poor. He is not accustomed to consume any foreign produce ; and, by the breeding (jf cattle, he even amasses some fortune. I now regret, that I did not devote some time to an ex- cursion through the Landes^ and to some inquiry into the condition of the inhabitants ; but I have |)erhaps a sufficient excuse in the heats of summer, under which the Landes were then burnt up. The middle and highest classes of the inhabitants of Bourdeaux are occupied entirely by commerce ; but society is, like that in every other town of such extent as Bourdeaux, divided into coteries. The higher class of merchants consider themselves as far above the second class, as the exclusitcs of a metroi»olis feel themselves sui>erior to the highest class of merchants. There is less society in Bour- deaux than might be expected in so large a town. The ifnides keep distinct, excepting at the time of the carnival, when reserve is in some degree thrown off. In Bourdeaux, as in Paris, dinner- j>arties are rare, excei>tiiig ainijiig the few English ' merchants. Everv coterie has its soirees, and the gentlemen have their cafes and their clubs. 1 went, as is expected of every stranger who visits B(»urdeaux,to see the (%itarty was agreeable, and I had the prospect before me of an excellent dumer, at the house of Monsieur Guestier, one of the principal wine-exporters. A prospect like this adds a wonderiul zest to a pleasure-ex- cursion. Besides the Chateau de la Bride, there are seve- ral other chateaux worthy of a visit. I may men- tion particularly, the tliateau de Thouars, once the residence of Charles IX. ; the Chateau de VUlan- drauty where Clement V. was born, and which, not on account of its being the birth-place of a pope, but because of its situation, and the solitude and silence of its ruins, is worth visiting. There is also the fine Oiatcau d'Epernon ; the Chateau de Lajitte ; and the Cfuiteau-Manjauj:, dear, by its very name, to the lover of claret. This reminds me, that 1 have an important duty to fulfil ; for, however in- teresting Bourdeaux maybe as a splendid city, and on account of the many fine monuments w Inch it contains, it is doubly interesting from its connexion with the claret-trade ; and I hasten, therefore, to present the reader vsith a somewhat detailed ac- count of the wines of Bourdeaux. CHAPTER XXXVIIL THE WINES OF BOURDEAUX. C]assification of the Wines of Bourdeaux— Produce— Qualities of Grapes—First Growths— Medoc and its Wines — Cha- teau-Margaux, Latitte, Latour, Haut-Brion— Produce and Value of these Vineyards— Classification of the four first Growths of Claret— St. Emiiion— Export of these Wines- Errors respecting the Manufacture of Claret— Inferior Wines exported as Clarets— Other Wines of France. The general classification of the red wines of Bour- deaux, although perhaps upon the whole correct, is nevertheless founded only on opinion, which follows change of taste and change of fashion. The classifi- cation can never be said to be perfectly, or unal- terably established ; for, within the last hundred years, taste and opinion in the quality of the wines of Bourdeaux, have suffered material changes. Within this period, the wines of Medoc, now greatly the most esteemed, held but a secondary place in public ojjinion ; so much so, that those proprieUtrs who owned vineyards both in Medoc and Bourg, never sold the produce of the latter of these — the most esteemed — without imposmg upon the pur- chaser the condition of taking off his hand a part of the produce of the former vineyard, then consi- dered far inferior. The quality of wines depends upon many causes. Some of these are natural causes ; such as, the soil, the exposure of the vineyard, the nature and age of the vine. Others are accidental ; such as, atmospheric influence, which too often frustrates the hopes of the cultivator ; a culture less or more careful ; the difference in the process of fermenta- tion ; and the greater or smaller degree of care in afterwards disposing of the liquor. These latter causes influencing the quality of wine, may of course lead to a change of opinion by their con- tinued opei-ation ; but in classifying the wines, it is > I 114 W 1-\E^ UF JiULKDLALX. [chap. XXXVIII. supi>ose(l that the vine has not been injured by any untoward ut ! I lospheric change ; that the culture has been conducted with the utmost care ; and thiit, in short, nothiii;jj has hten neglected that n»ay afford the higlu'st probability of a successful produce. The classification is perhaps, therefore, as perfect as it was possible to nuike it. The whole ]irndnc(' of the department is esti- mated at 250,000 tons. Fn>ni this (quantity, a tifth part may be deducted for drawing, evaporation, &c. The expense of culture is estimated over liead at from 45,000,000 to 4(1,000,000 of francs (1,800,0(M)/. sterling), which, i-stimuting the <[uantity of land under vineyard, is 110 francs per 448 scpiare yards ; and this portion of land is calculated to produce two liogsheads and forty-six luuidied partsof a hogsliead. A few words rt'sjiecting the difierent grapes fi'om which the liourdeaux wines are produced, camiot be out of place. These are Ic Cnnnenet, le Cartnentre^ le MaUM>ck^ h- !*it'it et !,■ (rros Verdoty le Merlot, nud I e Massoutet. lilt >t an till' finest species; and it is from these that the wints of Medoc are |)roduced. The Cantu'iitt has a smooth, liairless leaf, httle indented, the fruit Tiiiddle-sized, nearly round, and of a bright black. The Cannetnre grows in long clusters, and the grape is large, and also l)right-coloured. The Ma/hick also gi-ows in long ehisters, the fniit oval, and very black, the stalk reddish, and the leaf smooth. The Petit et Gros Verdot grow in short clusters ; are of a vermilion colour ; have a dusky-coloured leaf, and very many tendrils. These gi-apesare pre- cisely the same ; only the one is larger than the other. The Merlot is chieHy remarkable for its velvety black skin, and the thickness of its stalk. The name of this grape is taken from tiie word Mi rh- (black- bird), because this bird is particularly fond of that grai)e. Tln'se are the best grapes ; but there arc many others from which an interior wine is procured. I shall merely name them. De Maucin, le Teinturier, la Peloville, le i'etit Chalosse Noir, la I'ersillade. It must be understood, that the names of these grapes are not the same in all the ditierent districts where they are cultivated. The nature of the soil, 1 need scarcely say, in- fluences the (|uality of the same grape. The Verdot, so j)roductive in the plains, does not repay the labour of cultivation uiion the heights. It is worthy uf remark, too, that the grajjc w hich tastes the most agreeably does not produce the best wine. The grai)e8 last mentioned are all more agreeable to the ])alate than those w Inch produce the w ines of Medoc. In no other j)art of France, has the cultivation of the vine been carried to so great perfection as in the wines of liourdeaux. Within the last five years, many improvements have been made ; and the academy of Hourdeaux has oti'ercd prizes for cer- tain trials, which have in some instances proved successful. The vines whicli produce the first growths are situated on the bordei-s of the Ldndii^ ; the (»ther vines are cultivated on the heights called F Entre- dtux Mens, and upon the plains w Inch border the (lamnneand the Oordogne. The first growths of Medoc, wliich technical expression means the best (jualities of claret, are <'liatcortation. The good faith of the peasant, in maintaining the purity of his wine, it is siiid, is not to be depended upon ; but the exporter ought to possess so ]>crfect a knowledge of the ((uality of the ditterent vineyards, as to make it impossible that any deception should be j)rac- tised upon him. But to return to the first growths of Medoc, which in England are denominated clarets. Medoc is that portion of the department which lies between the Gironde and the (Julf of Gascony. It is in factatongueof land sun*ounded by water. Me- doc is about forty-five miles long, by ten miles broad, and is generally a plain, excepting near the banks of the rivers, where some heights lie, upon which the best wine is grown. All tliat part of the land which produces the first growths, is a light soil, pretty thickly strewn with stones about an inch or two in diameter. About two feet below the sur- face, a reddish earth is found, dry, compact, and mixed with stones. The whole of the territory of Medoc is as varied in its ([uality as in its produce. The fields of one ]ii'oprietor pi-oduce the cliuii-est wine, while those adjoining are scarcely worth the labour of cultivation ; and even in the same fields there are bad and good spots, and veins of unpro- ductive land run throuudi the most esteemed vine- yards. iSo reason can be given for the difierence in the quality of the vine produced in difi'erent spots. There maybe no apparent diflerence in the soil, none in the exposuiv, none in the vine, none in the treat- ment. Oni; vine may come u}) as luxuriantly, iir more luxuriantly, than another beside it, and btarsimilar clustei-8 ; but one may, notwithstanding, be con- verted into first growths, while the other will scarcely rise above the ratd; of r'ln dn Paiis. The culture of the vines of Medoc dithers from that of the vines in other parts of the department. The shrub is low, and is su]>ported upon a stake, which is there called r< //•>•<>». Pine-laths, from eight to ten feet in length, are fixed laterally, and form a continued line of espeliards, about a foot and a half high. Generally spiuking, the vines of Medoc are estimated to produce half a ton]»er 448 square yards. I have said, that the three first growths of the wines of Medoc, are ('/niti((u-]\Iiny<(ii.r, Lojitfe, and Ldtour. These names are familiar to every claret- drinker. All these wines grow on gentle acclivities, on the left Itank of the (Jaronne ; some nearer and sonu> farther from the si-a. JIaut Prion, also, al- though not a wine of Medoc, is considered to raid; w ith the first growths of claret. The farm of Chateau-Margaux contiiins, alto- gether, about 800 acres ; of which quantity about Ii50 are occupied by the vineyards. Lafitte, which is twenty-five miles nearer the sea, contains 230 acres. The vineyards of Chateau-Margaux are not contiimous, but are intennixed with other vine- yards, which are less valuable by more than one- third. The farm of Latour is less extensive, and [)roduces less than the other two fii-st growths. The wine called JJ(nU Jirioit is also a fii-st growth, and ranks, at least has hitherto ranked, with the first j growths of Medoc ; but 1 was infonned that it has CHAP. XXX \ in. WINES OF BOURDEAUX. 115 lately declined in public estimation, and conse- quently in demand. The produce of the vineyards of Chateau-Mar- gaux amounts to about 150 tons — four hogsheads to the ton. The produce of the Lafitte vineyard amounts to about 120 tons. This vineyard is rather more pro- ductive than the Chateau-Margaux, which is con- siderably larger. The produce of the Latour vineyard may be taken at about 120 tons also. Of iiaut Brion, the vineyards produce from sixty to eighty tons. The price of these first growths may be stated to be, upon an average of ten years, from 32/. to 63/. ; and there is a difference of 41. between every two growths ; i. e. a first growth is 41. higher in price than a second growth, and a second growth 4/. higher than a thu*d growth, &c. This rule is in- variable, w hatever the prices may be ; because the classification into fii"st, second, third, and fourth growths, continues always the same. From this statement, which may be considered perfectly authentic, since it was received by me from the house of (Jti^stu'r, Parton, and Co., at Bourdeaux, it will be seen that the whole produce of the first growths of Claret^ Chateau-Margaux, Lafitte, Latour, and llaut Prion, is no more than 1800 hogsheads ; from which 1 leave the reader to infer, how much of the claret drunk in England is first growth. But although the first growths are limited in quantity, there is no want of inferior growths ; for the w hole amount of the produce of Medoc, of all growths, is estimated at no less than 32,000 tons. Now that the policy of the govern- ment has equalized the duties upon wines, it is rea- sonable to imagine, that the importation of clarets will be greatly increased ; and perhaps it is not too uncharitable to suppose, that second growths will be passed as first growths, third growths as second growths, fourth giowths as third growths, and so on. I thhik, therefore, 1 may not be communi- cating a })iece of information altogether without its utility, if I present here the recognised classifica- tion of clarets of the first four growths, together with their estimated produce. FIRST GROWTHS. Chateau Margaux . . from 140 to 160 tons. Chateau Lafitte . . . 120 Chateau Latour . . 120 Haut Brion .... 60 — 80 These are the four first qualities, and are known under these names ; but it must be recollected, that the second, third, and fourth growths, are also pro- duced from the same estate as that which pro- duces the Oiateau- Margaux and the Lafitte ; so that a w ine being the produce of Margaux, is no proof that it is wine of a first quality. SECOND GROWTHS. Brane Mouton . . from 120to 140tons. N. — This wine is produced on the same estate as the Lafitte. Rauzan .... from 7& to 95 N. — This wine is produced at Mar- gaux. Lascombes, also from Margaux, from 25 to 35 Durefont, ditto . . 18 — 24 Gorse . . . . 40 — 50 Leoville . . . 145—180 120 to 150 tons. 60 to 70 35 - 45 100 — 120 60 70 20 25 10 15 10 15 40 to 60 50 — 70 80 90 60 90 150 — 200 70- 80 25 — 35 10 — 15 80 100 80 — 90 20 — 25 18 — 20 40 — 50 N. — This is the best of the class of St. Julien, a wine well known in England, and of which there are second, third, and fourth growths. Gruau, also a St. Julien THIRD GROWTHS. Pickon — Longueville . . from lOU tu 120 N. — This wine is produced on the same estate as the Latour. Cos Destoumel . Bergeron (a St. Julien) Branes Arbouet (Ditto) Kir wan .... Chateau de Candale . Malescet (of Margaux) De Loyae (Ditto) FOURTH GROWTHS. Giscours .... from St. Pierre (St. Julien) Duluc (Ditto) Mandavit (from tlie Lafitte estate) Canet (Ditto) Dinac (Ditto) . Lacalonie (of Margaux) Ferriere (Ditto) Tronquoy .... Ducasse .... Poujet .... Determe .... Boyd ..... it appears, therefore, that the amount of the-fii-st growth is 450 tons ; of the second growth 602 tons ; of the third growth 326 tons ; and of the fourth growth 823 tons, taking the mean produce. It will also be seen, that the wines of St. Julien form a considerable part of this produce, and are distri- l)uted over all the three latter growths. The name of St. Julien, therefore, is an im]ierfect index by which to judge of the quality of the wine. The wine of St. Emilion! a well-known wine in England, and generally considered a claret, is not a wine of Medoc, and ranks in quality with the fourth growths above enumerated. The wines called St. Emilion are of no fewer than twelve kinds ; and it is computed, that there is exported from Bourdeaux no less than 2,500 tons under the denomination of St. Emilion. It is probable, therefore, that the greater proportion of the clarets drank in England are the difierent wines of St. Emilion. St. Emilion may be easily distinguished from the wines of Medoc, by the absence of the bouquet, and also by its more heady taste. In good seasons, nine-tenth parts of all the first growths are exported to England ; the rest to Hol- land, and the northern ports. In different seasons, these are exported to Holland chiefiy ; and, in bad seasons, they are consumed in France. The first growths are not exported to England in any other than in good years, because it is more important to maintain the character of these wines in England, than, by throwing bad wine into the market as first growths, to realise a passing advantage. This dis- tribution of the first growths according to the sea- son is so well understood, that the proprietor of a second growth (la Rose) hoists, upon a tower that overlooks his estate, an English flag in gtx)d years, a Dutch flag in middling yeai'S, and a French flag in bad years. The rUolte is always made between the 1st and 30th of September ; and the wine is usually kept three or four years before it is sent to I *rf m IIG Vv"l.NE> Oi' \U)\ lliill.W \. [chap. XXXVIII. Eii^'huiil. rnlii thin time lias rla|>-til, tlif iir>t growth^ "1 tiie wines of Medoc are not considered fit for exportation.* Some of till- wines of liourdeanx are improved by a voya;:^'-' ; Lait not the first ^rowtlis of claret. These, when exj)orted to America or India, are j)repared for the voyage, by th. allirion of the wines of.Queyries and Mont-Frenand. iiut the best cla- rets are drunk in the greatest perfection in coun- tries the least distant from their native soil. Other wines of Bourdeaux — of which 1 shall immediately say a few words — intended solely for export to dis- tant countries, are improved by the voyage, and actjuire a greater delicacy and lightness ; but these never equal tht> wines of Medoc. 1 1 is jin error to suppose, that the fii-st growths ul claret, imported for the English market, are compound wines. Generally speaking, the best clarets are pure wines. It is only inferior wines that are mixed, in order to give them strength and colour. But I have said already, that, unless in the best seasons, first growths are not imported into England as fii-st growths ; and these are never mixed with any other wine. With respect to the belief that clarets are brandied, this is not generally the case ; and wlu ii brandy is added to the wines of Medoc, it is added in very small ([uantities. Some proprietors put one hogshead of brandy to twenty tons of wine — an eightieth part. Whether brandy be or be not added to clarets, depends en- • Choice claret is one of the wine-drinker's chief luxuries ; and, to give the reader some idea of its cost, we suhjoin the following accurate information regarding the expenses at- tending the importation of genuine first-growth wine into this country, and the price at which the wine-merchant can, with a fair profit, afford to sell it to his customers. This in- formation is from a valuable little treatise on the Wines of Bourdeaux, by M. Paguirre, a retired wine-broker resident in that city : — Average price charged, by the first houses at Bourdeaux, per hogshead, for first growth wine of a prime vintage .... JE50 Insurance and freight 18 6 Landing charges 2 6 Duty at 7s. 3d. per gallon . . . . 16 13 6 Bottles, corks, wax, &c 4 19 Interest, expense of premises, &c. to time of sale, 8i per cent. .... £73 3 C 6 4 4 £79 7 10 This sum (equal to about £3 10s. 6d. per doz.) Is, then, what the wine actually costs the importer before he can bring it to market ; but as he nmst have a profit on his business, he should get something more than this, even when the wine is sold inuntdiately; and if he keejjs it, to acquire age, he must, besides, be paid for his risk, and the locking up of his capital, as well as all the other charges alTectmg his busi- ness. If what is here slated be just — and we thnik it cannot be proved to be otherwise — it must be a mere delusion in any person in this country to suppose he can get first-growth wine of a fine vintage bvlow the rate current amoii^r respect able merchants. It is true, that, at this moment, we may purchase at Bourdeaux, from some shipping houses, war- ranted Chaleau-Margnux, vintage 1825, at lUOO francs per hogsliead : but as it is perfectly wel! known, that the whole produce of that estate was sold immediately after the vintage at very nearly that price, and tliit, after nearly three years' keeping. lOOO francs is a fair i)rice for good third-growth wme, we may judge what degree of confidence cau be had in such warranters and their warrantry. tir 1\ 111 i: tie order received by the exporter; but it may be taken as an invariable rule, that, if an order from England be sent to any of the ex- porters ot the first growths, merely requesting first, second, third, or fourth growths, without any other direction, the wine is, in that case, sent in its pure stat<-, without the addition of any brandy. I liave nothini: more to add of the first growths of the win. s ol Medoc. But to these I have to add the Unut Brian, which is generally understood to rank with the second and third growth of the wines of Medoc. This is a red Vin de Grares ; it has less Umquet than the wines of Medoc ; it has somewhat more colour, and more body ; and, after being kept six or eight years in wood, is scarcely to be distin- guished from the other fii-st growths. But Haut Brion has somewhat declined in public opinion. One or other of the accidental causes which iufiu- ence the quality of wines, has probably sent into the market, as a* first or second growth, a wine that ought, for the reputation of the vineyard, to have been consumed at home. Complaints have been made by consumers, to the home merchants ; less has in conseijuence been ordered ; and wheu the demand begins in this way to fall off, the vineyards are apt to be neglected. The demand being less, the price is not high enough to repay the cares of cultivation ; and the wine continues to decline hi estimation, until it falls altogether into a secondary rank. There are various qualities of Haut Brion. The first growth is but a very small part of tlie produce of the vineyard. St. Emilion, I have already mentioned, as a wine largely imported into England, under the generic name of claret ; but for which the consumer ought to pay a nmch lower price than for the first or second growths of the wines of Medoc. But there is also another wine which finds its way, and is now likely to find its way still more largely into the English market, as a claret. This is the wine of Bourg, called Bounjais. The prt)duce of the vineyards of Bourg is large, amounting to no less than' iJOO tons ; and the produce will no doubt go far towards supplying the increasing demand for French wines in England. But the wines which 1 have mentioned forni but a very small part of the wines of Bourdeaux. The other wuies are, the Vins de Cotes, and the Vins de Palus. The foniier of these are cultivated upon the heights which lie upon the right bank of the Ga- ronne, and are considered leather in the light of good vin ordinaire, than as rin»fns, for export. A great proportion of these wines is exported to Holland and the Baltic ; but some hundreds of hogsheads are also entered for England. The wines of Palm are grown still more extensively. The vineyards which produce these, lie upon the fertile low lauds that are found on the banks of the Garonne and the Dordogne. This is not the kuid of soil best suited to the vine, which finds a stony and rocky soil more congenial than rich land. The wuies of Talus are ex])orteil in large quantities to distant countries, and requite both age and a voyage. The pnxluce of these vineyards is very great. The rims de Lutes, and the vins de Palus, together, reach 10,000 tons ; about one-third ]>art of which qiiantity is exported U) foreign countries. The i)rice of these wines ninges from 200 to 400 francs, but the average may be stated ai 2'}{) francs. This notice upon the wines of Bourdeaux has CHAP. XXXVIII.] WINES OF BOURDEAUX. 117 I — been somewhat extended ; but at a time when the new scale of duties will not only lead to a demand, but probably even to a taste, for the wines of France, the sketch I have given may not be unacceptable. Most persons are desirous of being thought to know something of wines ; and yet, this knowledge cannot be otherwise than very limited. To be a connoisseur in wines, and to have a knowledge of wines, are two things very different. The former is to be acquired by experience alone ; the latter only by inquiry ; and, for my part, I cannot but think, that it adds something to the zest of a glass of ChaJteau-Margaux, to know a little of its history. Mthough not, perhaps, perfectly in place here, yet t. I am upon the subject of wines, and for the reason also which I have already given why there may be, at present, more interest upon the subject than usual, I will add a very slight notice respect- ing the wines of France in general. Four districts in France partake the reputation of producing the most renowned and most valuable wines— Burgundy, the Bordelais, Dauphiny, and Champagne ; and all these four classes of wmes differ essentially in their character. The wines of Burgundy are the most esteemed in France and m Germunv ; the wines of Bourdeaux are most es- teemed "in England. All these wines are divided into classes ; and the following is the classification of Burgundy : FIRST CLASS OP BURGUNDY — ALL FROM THE COTE d'or. La RomancJo Conti. Le Clos du Tart. Le Chambertin. Les Bonnes-Marres. Le Richebourg. Le Clos la Roche. Le Clos Vaugeot. Les V^roilles. La Romance de St. Vivant. Le Clos Morjot. La Tache. Le Clos St. Jean. Le Clos St. George's. La Perriere. Le Musigni. N.— Another St. George's. The St. George best known, is a wine of Provence. Le Clos de Pre'raeau. Most of these wines grow in very small quanti- ties. The first gi'owths, indeed, are rarely met with, excepting at royal, or highly-illustnous ta- bles. SECOND CLA.SS OF BURGUNDIES. Corton. Chambolle. Pitoy^ Vosne. Morey. Perriere. Nuits. Savigny. P^^^V''- .. Volnay. Meursault La Chainette. Pomard. (from the Cotd d'Or.) Mignenn. Beaume. Olivotes. Chenas. The first six of these are the Burgundies most commonly met with ; and these second growths, it is said, bear exjiortation better than the fii-st growths. Hitherto, but a limited quantity of Bur- gundy has been exported into England ; partly because it has been thought to bear transport worse— and i>artly because the taste of the French inclining more iii favour of Burgundy than the wines of Bourdeaux, there is a larger demand for it at home. There can be little doubt, however, that if the removal of the duties .shall tempt the proprietors of Burgundies to try the English mar- ket, the demand for claret will suffer a consider- able diminution. The French look upon it almost as a heresy, to deny to Burgundy the pre-eminence in wines ; and accordinglv, the ancient title of the dukes of Bur- gundy waJ Primes des Bans Vins. The Romunee Conti, which stands at the head of the list of fii"st- growths, has scarcely, if ever, found its way into England. The vineyard from which it i.s produced does not exceed seven EngUsh acres in extent. The Chs Vaugeot was at one time the rival of the Rmnante Conti, and as much as twelve francs per bottle has been obtained for it by the grower ; but it is now looked upon as inferior to several of the other first grow ths. The only first growth of the wine of Daui>hiny known in 'England, is Hermitage — of which there are four kinds, scarcely dittering in quality— 3/ eo/, Grejlen, Bessac, Beaunie, en llaumuie. The quan- tity of these wines is extremely small ; but, as I have mentioned in another part of this volume, the adjoining vineyards contribute towards the de- mand. The second growths of the wine of Dau|>hiny are Tain VEtoUe, Drome.. St. Peray, an excellent u hite wine, is also a wine of Dauphiny. Champagne admits the simple classification of river wines and mountain wines ; Vins de la Kiriere d£ Marne, and tins de hi Montagne de Reittui. The former are white, the latter red. Sillery is the most in favour among the wuies of Champagne, and takes its name from the property of the marquis of Sillery, where the vineyards he. Among the red Chain- pagnes, St. Thierry is the most esteemed, and is said to unite the aroma of theBurgundy with the lightness of Champagne. The soil of the Champagne vineyards is an upper stratum of marl, and a substratum of chalk. Champagne of the best quality will pre- serve its excellence twenty years, provided it be kept in a proper temperature, which in the cellars of Epernay, is always maintained at 54**. The following is the process of the manufacture of white sparkling Champagne : The grapes are picked with great care, the shrivelled or unri{>e being rejected. They are gathered early in the morning, when the dew is u|)on them ; and it is a curious fact, that if the weather be hazy during the time of the vintage, the produce of the fermenta- tion is increased. The grapes are then pressed. The wine that is produced by this first operation is called Tin d' elite. When the edges of the muM have been cut and turned into the middle, a second pressmg takes place, from which is produced the Tin de taiU^. The liquor is collected in vats, from which it is removed the following day into pun- cheons v\hich have been sulphured. There the must remains till towards the end of December, by which time it has become clear. It is then raked and fined with isinglass, and six weeks af- terwards, it is raked and fined a second time. In the month of March it is bottled. Six weeks after it is put in bottle, it becomes brisk ; and so power- ful is the fermentation, that considerable loss is sustained bv the bui-sting of bottles. The oss ui.on the various operations, occasions a total loss of about 25 per cent. The chief difference be- tween the manufacturing (»f white and ]unk C ham- pa^Mie consists in the grap(>s for the latter being fii-^^t sli.rhtly trodden, and the fermentation being allowed to commence before they are pressed, in order that the solution of the colouring matter may be facilitated. " It is well known," says a popular writer upon wines, " that the briskness of wine is the jn'oduce \SlMo UF BOURlJi; VI \ [chap. XXXVIII. i.f all inifinish. .1 ti rnu ntatiuii. This quality is se- cured by bottiiiii at the proper season, before fer- mentation is !\!i [listed ; and if in danger of ex- cess, it is rc-'traHi.l .ir (liiniiiislu'il l»y racking, or decanting, «ii- ■-uliihiiriiig. Jiut it liaTifxiiH not un- frefjucntly, that it fails altogether, citli i from acci- dent in the management, or a bad season, from faults it! tile fruit, or fcrmontatinn too far, or a weak wini- exhausting itself unexpectedly, in this case, the remedy is to introduce sugar into the bottles, as well as into the casks. In the latter case, the fermentation is renewed, and the wine becomes good ; but by introducing sugar into the bottles, much bad wine is produced. The sugar does not reproduce fermentation, but disengages the carbonic acid of the wine. The solid sugar is corkf'd up in the butt!(>, so that the disengaged gas is retained under the pressure of the cork, ready to fly out whenever that is removed. The Lyonnais produces the well-known wine ktiown in England under the name of Cote-Roti. Uf this wine 1 have spoken in that chapter of this volume which contains the Descent of the Rhone. Three other districts are also celebrated for their wine ; — the neighbourhood of Avignon, which pro- duces Coteau Brule ; JJiarn, which produces Juran- f >M and Gan ; and liomsilloti, which produces Barjnoh and Cosperon. the following note upon the general wine trade of I ranee (which I extmct from " the Wine-drink- er"^ Maiuial," taken from the French and English Stat ! * apers), will not be an unfit conclusion to this chapter ; — Tin- laiid now under wine culfnre is estimated at l.72K.O()0 hectares (3,4!>!».2(M> acres), yielding 4(),Ol)(»,(M)0 hectolitres (a(H).()(M),0()() gallons), and giving a value of ()()l),<)()0,(»(K) francs (■2 4,O()(»,000/.) The general duties yield a total produce of 100 millions (4,()0(>,(H)()'.) ; the local or municijtal du- ties, 2U,0U0,00U francs («Ut>,OOU/.) *, amounting, together, to a charge on the entire produce of more than 20 per cent. According to M. Dupin, the ex- pense of levying the indirect duties amounts to the exorbitant sum of -JOjiJOOjOOO francs, on a revenue of l.'iH niilUons ; while, in England, the expense of collecting similar duties does not exceed 7 millions in VM\ The (hities to which tlu; wines, white or red, are subject in \arious countries, are as follow : — In Sweden, 400 francs the pipe ; in Norway, 200 francs; in Prussia, fj'jn francs; in Russia, 7^0 francs; in Enirlaud (previous to the alteration of (hities), 1200 tVancs ; in the United States, 189 francs, 90 centimes. Previous to 17nf>, the annual i\j>.rtation of wines from Hourtleaux aniounteil to aiioiit 100,000 pipes. But the trade has greatly dimiuisjud since that period. Tin- foUowing is the amoimt of the annual exportations since 1819, as stated in a petition of the wine-growers to the eliauiln r of deputies, in the spring of \\V2\\ : I'll'F.S. PI PES. 1820 . f>l,110 1824 39,625 1821 . . 82.224 182.', . . AVk'M [ 1 822 :i!>. :):.:» 18'28 48,484 lo'2:i . . .">i,r»:}9 1827 . . 54,492 The documents laid before the chambei*s by the miuistrv, state the average value of the three years, 1787 8 9, at 32.0i>0,000 francs, wine; and 17,000,000 francs, brandy ; the mean \alue of the exportutio,, for 1825—6—7, at 48,000,000 francs in wine, and 20,000,000 francs in brandy. In France, great complanits hav e, therefore, been made within the last two ^i ars ui the laiiguishing and depressed state of the wine-tra.i. ; and the investigation of its actual condititni Iks- occupied nmch of the time and attention of the French government. A (lues- tion has been raised, whether the high duties im- posed on French wines in foreign countries, have brought alK>ut this stagnation and want of demand now experienced \ And it has been shown, that, with the exception of England, the foreign tariffs cannot have contributed much to this effect. The remedv suggested, and indeed the only probable one, is*the reduction of the internal duties. The wine-growers suffer grievously, not only from the pressure of the government taxes, or droits (jeneraux, but also from the duty which wine pays on entering the barrier of a town, and from which no drawback is allowed on its exit. These town- dues are very arbitrary, and in some places so ex- cessive, that it is by no means uncommon to find French wines dearer at home than in other European countries. The octroi of Paris is twenty- one francs (17s. 6d.) per hectolitre, although the quarter part of the wine consumed is not worth more than fifteen francs (12s. 6d.) the hectolitre ; and it is a strange anomaly, that those who wish to get wine at a moderate price, cannot do it without step])ing outside of one of the barriei-s of l*aris. We have stated six hundred millions of francs to be the value of the annual produce of wine in France. Of this, one hundred millions are exacted by the droits gcnernux, and twenty millions more by the octroi, making a total taxation of one-fifth part of the whole. The proprietors of the vineyards have repeatedly petitioned for liberation from these restrictions ; and in everj' case where relief has been granted, the increase of consumption has sur- passed expectation. At Bourdeaux, where the duty is one-half less than in Paris, twice as much wine is consumed, in proportion to the number of inha- bitants, as in the French meti-opolis. The consunjption of French wines in France has very naturally increased with the increase of na- tional weahh. ! a 1821, the quantity retailed, and, of course, chietiy coiisuiii.il liv the lower classes, scarcely amounted to 12,900,000 hectolitres (twenty- five gallons per hectolitre) ; in 1826, it exceeded 14,400,000. The quantity sold wholesale exhibits a still more strongly-marked produce ; in 1818, it was 2 685,948 hectolitres ; \n 1828, it amounted to 3,973,488. The quantity of French wine imported into the United Kingdom of (ireat Britain and Ireland, in the year endini: January 1829, amounted to 475,374 gallons ; tlu' amount of duty paid reached 172,000/. 12>-. (id. ; and the quantity remaining in bond was 510,818 gallons. It is a ]iity that we have no popular treatise on wines, containing all that might be interesting to know about the most esteemed wines of France, Spain, PortUixal, aril C iniany. The work of Mr. Henderson, besides li. iii„' too ex[>ensiye, is more a history of wines than a treatise upon their points of interest. 'I'lu information that would be desir- able could not be obtained, unless in the different countries where the wines are ])roduce undertaken for buch a CHAP. XXXIX.] ITINERARY OF T I /J I HE. 119 purpose. There is therefore little or no likelihood of the world being put in possession of such a treatise as I have supposed might be acceptable. LiiAPTER XXXIX. ITINERARY OF THE LOIRE. Nantes and its Environs — Journey to Saumur — State of the French Peasantry — Ancennis and its charming Scenei> — Scenery of Bretagne — Ingrande — Angers — The Castle and its History — Environs — A Grape Diet— Saumur — The Castle of Fontevrauld, and its History. Mv limits will not permit me to detail my journey fn)m Bourdeaux to Nantes, and also from Nantes up the Loire to Orleans ; and as the latter part of this route is the more interesting, I shall take the liberty of ti'ansporting the reader at once from Bourdeaux to Nantes, there to commence an itine- rary of the Loire, which will occupy the remainder of this volume. No part of France is so celebi*ated for natural beauty, as well as for the interest of the cities and towns which lie along the route, as the country bordering the Loire ; and, in order that I might be able to devote some pages to a sketch of this route, I have curtailed considerably my de- scription of Bourdeaux and its environs. 1 left Bourdeaux en dillyencej and arrived m due time at Nantes. Nantes, even to one arriving in it from Bour- deaux, is a noble city ; and its situation can scarcely be excelled. It stands upon the slopes and summit of a gentle hill, half encii-cled by the Loire, which is broad, clear, and tolerably ra,- pid ; and its beauty is greatly increased by several islets which dot the river exactly opposite to the town, and which are covered with pretty country- houses and gardens. The Loire is extremely shal- low, where it flows past Nantes ; which, although rather adding to its beauty than otherwise, from the greater rapidity and clearness created by the shallows, is very detrimental to commerce. No vessel of burthen can ascend the river to the city, but is obliged to unload its car^o nine leagues dis- tant ; and the cargo is brought up the river in boats. There is a magnificent quay along the river-side ; but I saw little appearance of trade. Nantes was the ancient residence of the dukes of Bretagne ; and, upon a hill to the east of the city, stands the castle of these princes. This castle was built in the beginning of the eleventh century ; but the duke of Mercueur, who, during the wars of the League in the sixteenth century, made himself sovereign of this }>rovince, made many additions to it. The castle is still in excellent ])reservatioii ; f(»r, although it must have yielded to the influence of nine hundred yeai-s, the rejiairs which have from time to time become necessary, have been made in the original style of the building, so that there can- not exist a more perfect specimen of the architec- ture of these times, than is seen in the castle of Nantes. I spent one whole day in this castle and in its precincts, and was pleased with all that 1 saw. The recollections awakened in the contem- jilation of feudal castles, are more stirring, and to me more agreeable, than those whieh are forced upon us amid the ruins of monasteries and abbeys. It is true that the inhabitants of these castles were generally robbers — that their lives were rude and lawless — and that the scenes which their walls have witnessed have most generally been scenes of rapine and bloodshed. But in all this, and in the vices which clung to the feudal lords and their followers, there is something more stirring — even more noble than in the vices that, within a convent's walls, are forced to call in the aid of hypocrisy. In the chapel of this castle, Anne, duchess of Bretagne, gave her hand to Louis XII. in the year 1499, by which man'iage this province was secured to the French crown. Almost every chamber has its story — among others, I saw the chamber in which the cardinal de Retz was confined, and from w Inch he escaped by means of a rope, which lowereot where, in the reign of Charles the Seventh, Gilles, mar^chal de Retz, was burnt. A story that nobody can credit is told re- specting this affair. It is said, that the crimes for whieh tliis man suffered death were of a nature too horrible to be named ; and that the trial of the mare'chal is yet preserved sealed, in the arelii\ es of the city. The environs of Nantes are remarkably pleasant, particularly the banks of a little stream called the Erdne. Fine oak and chesnut woods shade its margin ; and gardens and jtretty country-houses are thickly scattered around. There are also two ancient chateaux on the same route, within a league of Nantes ; one of them called the Chatmu de la Verriere, formerly a stronghold of the Hugonots ; the other, once the residence of Peter Landais, the favourite of Fraucis the Second. On this side of the town, there is a considerable quantity of land in vineyard ; but the wine ]>roduced from it is thin, sour, and consecjuently l)ad. 1 must not omit tit mention, that the duchy <»f Bretagne was the biithqjlace of Abelard, whose amours and misfortunes have given so much scope 120 ITINERARY OF THE LOIRE. [chap. XXXIX. for t!u- <;enius of the poet aa art of treading lightly over the rough steps in the path of life ; and, besides, thes(> are in fact fewer in France than in most <.ther coun- tries. France is not over-})eopled. Country labour is generally to be had ; and its rewards, altlKJUgh small, are suthcient to supply the coudorts, and even the little luxuries, of a peasant's life. In France, too, a great proportion of the land i.> the property of the jieasaiitry, who form a class almost unknown in England, and wh(» are luq.i'ier than the same class in other countries. The Swiss peasant is, indeed, as much a proprietor, and generally a richer i)roprietor, than the French peasant ; but his life is a life of labour, because his climate ren- ders labour necessary ; and his character is also ditterent. This is, after all, the most important matter, and the chief advantage v hich the French peasant i)ossesses ; at least, without this, his other advantages would be useless. He looks ui»on the sunny side of the jticture ; and so as the sun shines a little way around him, he does not trouble him- self whether it enlightens more (Hstant paths. He is not one of the class called " most tliinking per- sons ;"— lie never tliinks, excepting of himself. Ins faniilv, his cottage, a!id his apple-trees. Neilher is he of the class of reading men ;~ he reads his prayer-book, and the songs and ballads of his country. Neither is he a politician ;— he leaves it to the inhabitants of the cities to settle state affairs. He i-eceives, indeed, with good-will, the blessings of pohtical freedom when they are tendered to him, and congratulates himself upon heu)gun Fran^ah; but such matters do not occupy his mind ; and if the question were, whether he should attend a pohtical meeting, or a /T^e du TilUuje, he would stick a nosegay in his breast, and a ribbon in his hat, and seek tlie village-green. I found an appetite for dinner sooner than an auberge wherein to indulge it ; but in this route, the want of an auberge need not prevent the tra- veller fnmi satisfying his hunger. Bread, cheese, eggs, fruit, and n'lilk, may be had in every cottage ; and ill every cottage he is welcome to these luxu- nes. The whole of my walk this evening was beautiful in the extreme. Although the river flowed close to the road, or at least but a very small distance from it, it was only visible glancing between the trees and tlirough the hedges ; for a thick belt of wood, chiefiy fruit-trees, bt>rdered its bank, and covered the narrow meadows that lay between it and the road. Broken wooded heights lay on the other side ; and shady i)aths, that reminded me of the English lanes, led from the river up the hills, or into the little valleys, or hollows that lay among them. The api)roach to Ancennis is delightful. It is the perfection of forest-scenery. And here, as in our Sherwood, has many a story and ballad been laid, and many a feat of archery been done ; and here too fairy circles have been traced, and the merry elves, " though rarely seen by mortal eye," have frisked it " in the cold moon's gleamy glance." There is no walk like a torest-walk, especially near sunset ; for there is no sight in nature more beau- tiful than the slanting sun-beams pouring among the crowded trunks of the dark trees, partially gilding the foliage, and chequering the velvet be- neath with the broad masses of light and shade. Somethnes an alley, open to the west, admitted a rich blaze of light that streamed through the forest ; sometimes I passed out of the shade into an oi>en gla(h', that seemed clothed in a gannent of light ; and sometimes 1 skirted the denser masses of wooread, and as good wine as one ge- nerally finds in the Freucli inns, were all set liefore me wi'ih the most marvellous exjiedition. It is a great misfortune if a traveller in France, especially a foot-ti-aveller, whose day's journey often conducts him to the smaller inns, 'should happen to dislike CHAP. XXXIX.] ITINERARY OF THE LOIRE. 121 omelet. It may be difficult to believe that any such person exists ; but I have seen and travelled with persons so unfortunate ; and when I have been en- joying an excellent meal, they have been obliged to content themselves with the purer pleasure of s^tti- pathising in my good fortune. Every where in France, even in the poorest auberge, an omelet is to be obtained : either omrlctte mere, omelette cjras, or omelette aufnes herbes. What a choice is there ! One might very well begin with an omelette gras, make a remove of the omelette au fines herf>es, and finish with an omelette mere by way of dessert. Ancennis is a charming retreat : nowdiere could a studious man spend a month or two more agree- ably. It is very quiet, very secluded, and is sur- rounded by all the varieties of forest-scenery. The Loire, too,*sweeps near it, broad and silvery ; and the people seem simple and obliging. Let me add the recommendation of cheapness ; for an admirable supper, a clean good bed, and a draught of most delicious milk next morning — not to mention kind attentions, civil words, and a world of smiles — I paid only two francs. Let the reader recollect, that all these excellent things are to be had at the sign of the " Bow and Aitow." After supper, it wanted still an hour of darkness ; and I was leaving the imi to stroll about the village and its neighbour- hood, when a little girl about nine years of age, the daughter of the aubergiste, offered to be my cicerone, and conduct Monsieur to the bosquet. I saw many pretty spots that almost tempted me to interrupt' my journey by a few weeks' dreaming at Ancennis; and was led by the little girl to the pro- mised bosquet, which was a labyrinth of trees, with many seats among the branches, where little games at "hide-and-seek" are played by the villagers. The little girl assured me, that the blan. I haron its banks, the remains of chateaux, and religious houses, which so often and so beautifully lavak the outline of the wooded hills, add greatly to the perfection of this union. How much is the picturesque beauty of many coun- tries indebted to the monks of former tin\es ! The loveliest spots are adorned by the ruins of their habitations. Shelter from the winds ; sunny slopes for their gardens, or vineyards ; a river for fish, and a forest for game, were all considered in the choice of a site. We have no occasion to travel in order to become acquainted with the discernment of the monks in the selection of fitting spots for their abbeys. At home, we have no w ant of exam- ])les : Tintern, Jarvis Abbey, Fumess, Woburn, Fountains Abbey, Melrose, Uryburgh, and many others in England and in Scotland, attest the good taste of the f i-iars, and the dark ages. I left Ingrande early, and, passing through a fer- tile and varied country, I reached Angers about mid-day. The situation of Angei-s is not so striking as some other of the cities that lie up(»ii the Loire ; it is placed hi a fertile plahi, rich in all the produc- tions of Anjou — certainly one of the most fertile provinces of France. The city is divided by the little river Mayenne, into the haute and the hassti town. In 1214, our king John built the walls of Angers, and they are to this day almost entire. A little later, the castle of Angers was built. It is nearly in ruins, and is a fine object, situated upon a great rock overhan«j:ing the river. It must formerly have been a place of great strength, for the walls are very massive ; and the fosses, which are cut out of the rock, are wide and deep. This castle, built l)y St. Louis, was formerly the residence of the kings of Sicily, as dukes of Anjou. I spent the evening of my arrival in the castle ; and the next morning I dedicated to the ciithedral ; which, more from tlie recollectii»ns it awakens, than from its own intrinsic merits, is viewed with great interest. In this cathetlral is the monument of the celebrated Margaret, daughter of Rene, king of Sicily, and wife of our Henry the Sixth. There is some romance in the history of this princess. Taken prisoner in the battle of Tewkesbury, she was sent a prisoner to the tower ; and was subse(iuently i-ansomed by Louis XL, who, however, had views verv different from those prompted ])y generosity, in iiis seemintjly friendly interposition. Margaret was tenderly beloved by her father ; and when the crafty king made the renunciation of Anjou and part of Lorraine the i>rice of her delivery, lUnt: hesitated not to complete the transference of these jn-ovinces. Subsequently to this time, she resided at All, in Provence, under the protection of her father ; and at his death she retired to Vanms, where she found an asylum in the house of a gen- tleman named Vignole,' who had formerly served her father, and had received benefits from him. It wiis while Margaret resided here in retirement, that she was visited by Henry earl of Richmond, afterwards the conrous fine situations, it is folly to confine a city within its ancient limits. Angers would be a cheaper place of residence than either Tours or BloU ; but it is better to live in an agreeable town, and to pay an additional penny for a pound of meat. I found the markets of Angei-s well supplied, and the price of provisions remarkably low. Beef and mutton were 2d. per lb. Bnad, l^d. per lb. A pair of fowls may be purchased for Is. 2d. ; and a turkey costs no more than 3s. Fruit and vegetables are remarkably cheap. There is a pleasiint wine, too, whicii sells at about 2^d. per bottle, called Cham- p'ufny. House-rent is also extremely moderate ; but few of the houses are agreeably situated for a residence. For 10/. i>cr atunnn, a very commodious house may be ol>tained. But notwithstanding these advantages, I should not select Angers as a resi- dence : and although its neighbourhood be fertile and f'yinfc, 1 saw no villas. The neighbourhood of Angei-s, however, ha.s many pretty cottages standing in the midst of their gardens, whose fences are generally half composed of vines ; and these also usually cover the cottage-walls with their fantastic vvreaths, bright leaves, and tempting clusters. There are some Roman remains in Angers, par- ticularly vvstif tb<' seeontl day, as I had in- tended ; and when, Knvards the afternoon, the storm ceased, it was too late to set out, and 1 devoted the evening to a v\aliv int.- the adjoining country. It is mostly a country of vin* vanls ; and the inha- bitants are, therefore, almost all rhjutruiis. 1 rested HI several of their cottages, and found them all com- fortable ; and the inmates appeared, and 1 have no doubt were, all happy. Most of them were at sup- per, which consisted of bread, and fruit, and wine. It was not the season of vintage ; but then, and after that time, grapes nuiy be said to be the staple article of subsistence. 1 believe every one has agreed that a grape-diet is wholesome. The inha- bitants of the wine-countries have generally the a|)|.earance of health. It is not unusual for the j>hysicians in some parts of France, and particu- larly, I believe, in the eastern ]>rovinces, to recom- nund a i:rape-di<'t wholly in many cases of debility ; and, judging from my own experience, when, in hot countries and during the vintage, 1 have lived almost wholly on grapes, 1 should tinnk grapes in lar wars of the sixteenth century, was often fiercely disputed ; and the fortifications were formerly of 'great strength. The castle is a striking object, overlooking the town and the river. The kings of Sicily, and the dukes of the house of Va- lois, used foraierly to reside occasionally in this castle. From its towers there is a truly channing prospect. This place I should greatly prefer as a residence to Angers ; the town is more airy and lively, the country quite as beautiful, and provisions even a shade cheaper. It struck me, too, that the iidiabitants were remarkably good-looking ; and this, I think, is not to be altogether overlooked in the selectioji of a residence. It is almost an intel- lectual pleasure to look upon a beautiful counte- nanoo ; at all events, it is pain to look upon the reverse, where personal acquaintance has not taught us, by habit, to look u])on ugliness with indilference. I consider it a decided objection to a residence in Switzerland, so delightful in every other respect, that the women are almost, without exception, so frightful. Tile day followmg my arrival in Saumur, I dedi- cated to an excursion to the abbey of Fontevrauld, the burial-i)lace of our Henry 11. and Richard 1. It lies five leagues from Saumur. on the limits of Anjou, towards Tounune. The abbey is situated in a deep valley among rocky hills ; and is so sur- rounded by wood, that it is scarcely seen until we enter its precincts. The elms that shadow its soli- tary walls are particularly fine. It was in the year lOIiU that this abbey was founded. Henry died at Chinoiiy in its vicinity ; and the holy reputii- tion of this abbey was probably the cause why it was selected as his burial-]»lace ; and Richard, as it is said, from feelings of contrition on account of his filial disobedience, requested, in his last hours, that he might br laid at his father's feet. Eleanor, the Nvife of one, and the mother of the other of these princes, was buried in the same tomb ; which is farther honourerecincts, and at sunset de- scended to the bank of the river, where I wandered till after dusk. The auberge was not tempting, for I had gone to an indifierent house by mistiike ; however, upon my return ! f';und an omelet and some excellent trout. Langeais is only seven leagues from Tours — a pleasant walk to dinner; and I left the former place about my usual liour, and, passing through a suc- ces.Hion of delightful scenery, 1 reached Tours about two o'clock. Tours is well known as one of the favourite re- treats of our absents. >; and they certainly show their good taste in tlu spot they have selected. The situation of Tours can scarcely find a rival. One of the most charming little plains that imagination can conceive, surrounds the town. The river, l)road and limpid, sweei)s past it ; and the city itself would be agreeable, even if it« neighbourhood were some- what less fertile in attractions. Great i>art of the town is new ; and the streets, several of which are sjiacious, and the houses clean, substantial, and many of them elegant, give to the town an air of ease, pleasure, and abundance, which few other cities in France possess. The beauty of Tours has arisen since the Revolution, and has, indeed, sprung out of it, for great part of it was rebuilt upon an improved plan. One of the gates of the city is called Hugoa Gate, derived from the name of an old count oi Tours named Hugo ; and historians, both De Thou and Darila, say, that the party of Hugonots originated in Tours, and derived their name from this gate, which was a term of reproach ; because this old count Hugo, in the popular legends of the place, was represented as a fiend. I of course visited the cathedral of Tours, which, in the interior, is not remarkable for its beauty ; and the expectations being somewhat excited by its beautiful towers, one feels consequent disa]ipoint- ment. There is a curious collection of manuscripts attached to the cathedral, which, however, I did not see. I was told it contains a very ancient copy of the Pentateuch ; and also a copy of the Evan- gelists, not a century later than Constantino. I also visited the church of St. Martin, which is large and ugly. St. Martin is said to be buried here. His tomb, at all events, is shown ; and in fonner times it was the custom for the kings of France to put up prayers beside this tomb before setting out on any perilous expedition ; and the cloak of the saint was used as a banner. The promenades round Toui-s are truly charming. Among these, the Elm Avenue is the most conspi- cuous,^ and the most shady. And here, on Sunday, all the inhabitants may be seen en holiday. The quay is also a pleasant promenade; and, being broader and larger than is required for business, there is plenty of room upon it for the lounger. Tours is, indeed, scarcely at all a place of com- merce ; but the environs of the city furnish the most agreeable walks, and these, too, are the most frequented. Innumerable little paths lead in every direction through the fields, and among the knolls and copses. These walks are, however, very unso- ciable, for they are only wide enough for one. But this was explained to me, by a French demoiselle, to be better ; " because," said she, " if Monsieur who is behind says a gallant thing, we may either hear or not as we please ; and in case we blush, nobody sees it." 1 confessed that the reasoning was irresistible. The neighbourhood of Tours is chequered by villas and monasteries ; and among the latter is the well-known monastery of Mar- moutier, from which John duke of Burgundy, surnamed Sa)u^ Pear, carried off Isabella, queen of Bavaria. Tours, fifteen years ago, was as cheap a residence as any other place on the Loire ; but a gi-eat ad- vance in the prices of every thing, and particularly house-rent, has naturally followed the approbation of Toui-s by the English. Good villas are not now ea.sy to be found— almost all those which are the most desirable being already occujjied. I was told, that, imme.liately after the war, a large house, with every possible convenience, and a garden of two or three acres, might be had for 20/. per annum. I l)elieve this sum may now be more than doubled. Provisions are still moderate in price ; aud wood is CHAP. XL.] ITINERARY OF THE LOIRE. 125 less expensive here than in most other parts of France. There is good society, both French and English, at Tours. It is one of the places resorted to by those of the French who are in independent circumstances, and yet who cannot afford the ex- pense of a residence in the metropolis ; and the number of English now constantly residing in Tours, forms a sufficient circle, exclusive of any other. I should certainly prefer Tours to Lausanne as a residence, supposmg them to be upon an equality in expense. The climate of this part of France is greatly superior to that of Switzerland ; and the luxuries which depend upon clunate, are therefore more easily attainable at Tours. The greater vici- nity also of Tours to a great city, Paris, as well as its vicinity to England, are advantages which seem to cast the balance in its favour. Tours was fonnerly much celebrated for its silk manufactories ; and as many as three thousand hands were employed in them. The flowered da- masks of Tours were considered the most beautiful in the world ; but the manufactories have declined ; and Tours appeal's, at present, to be almost wholly a city of pleasure. The second day after my arrival in Tours, I visited the celebrated castle of Plessis hs Tours, which lies about a mile from the city. This castle was built by that tyrant Louis XL, and he lived there the greater part of his life ; and there also he died. Who is there that does not remember the graphic picture of the death of this monarch, presented to us in the page of Philip de Comines ? The castle of Plessis les Tours is constructed of brick, but is handsome, notwith- standing its materials and its age ; and looks ma- jestic, suri'ounded as it is by embowering woods. The only part of the castle worth the notice of the stranger, is the chapel, whore there is a portrait of the cruel king, dressed in armour. The picture re- presents him taking off his helmet with his right hand, as he is m the act of saluting the Virgin Mary and the infant. The painter has endeavoured to infuse into his repulsive countenance a look of benignity, and a complacent smile, in which he has cei-tainly succeeded ; but the expression of the execrable tyi*ant is still to be discovered behind. Some have supposed, that, in the figures of the Vir- gin and Child, it was intended to represent liis queen, Charlotte of Savoy, and his son, Charles the Eighth ; and this sup[)osition is favoured by the head of the female being adorned with a diadem, and her habit being regal. It is also pretended, that a resem- blance to the king can be discovered in the child. There are no pleasing recollections awakened in walking through the courts of this castle. It was the lair of a wild beast — the habitation of one of the most detestable of royal tyrants. Still, it vividly recalls many passages in history ; and the record of all that has been plotted, said and done, in this pleasui-e-palace of a man whose heart never knew real pleasure, rises before us, when we feel ourselves within its walls. I resolved to prolong my stay in this neighbour- hood two or three days, that I might visit the castle of Loches, one of the most celebrated in French history, and which lies nearly nine leagues from Toura. I devoted two days to this excui-sion ; and hired a cabriolet, that I might have more time to bestow ui>on Loches. The country between Tours and Loches I found scarcely inferior to that which lies along the Loire ; it is watered into fertility and beauty by the Cher and the Indre,and by numerous tributary streams. Who was the founder of tlie castle of Loches, or at what precise epoch it was built, are alike unknown ; but it has evidently been enlarged at various times subsequent to its erection. In the days of tyranny and violence, the castle of Loches was a frequent state-prison for persons of the highest rank ; and princes, cardinals, and dukes, have inhabited many of its gloomy chambei's. The iron cage in which cardinal De hi Bcdue was many yeai"S confined by Lous XI. is to be seen in one of the apartments. It is not quite eleven feet squai-e. What happiness it is, that the days have passed utterly away, when monsters like Louis XI. could reign, and live ! One of the most interesting chambers in this castle, is that in which the execrable Ludovico Sforza was imprisoned by Louis XI. during ten years. The chamber is at least thirty feet long, vaulted, and contains one window, through which the sun shines every day for some time about noon. Tra- dition says, that Sforza formed upon the opposite wall a sun-dial, by which he might mark the hours of captivity. The remains of this dial may yet be traced. There is a multitude of inscriptions and strange chai^acters upon the walls ; but these are altogether illegible. I also visited the vaults below, or dungeons, called Oubliettes, well named for places destined lur the reception of those who were to be for ever forgotten. These dungeons are entirely without light. They are hollowed out of the earth, and are guarded by doors of iron. Even so latelv as the vear 17'J0, state prisoners were confined in the castle of Loches, though not in these dungeons. The principal church of Loches is also worth visiting, for it contains the monument of Agnes Soreille, mistress of Charles VII. The bas-relief represents a very beautiful and delicate personage ; the figure is symmetrical, and the countenance sweet and feminine. She is represented lying upon a cushion, simply attired, and two lambs lie at her feet ; but all this is fast falling into decay. Agnes Soreille was a noble-minded woman ; and many traditions are yet to be found expressive of her charms and her high character. I was also con- ducted to La Tour de la Belle Agnes, where it is said Charles used to confine his mistress when he went to the chase, because he was afraid to trust her elsewhere. Agnes died in the abbey of Jumieges in Normandy ; but her body was brought to Loches at her own express request. It has been said, that Ludovico Sforza was in- terred in the chancel of this church ; but I believe this is an error. The figure of a warrior in prayer has been usually said to be the portrait of Sforza : but it is now believed to be that of the duke ol d'Epcrnon. I had now seen all that was interesting in and about the very interesting city of Tours ; and Vu^ day after returning from Loches, 1 left that city for Amboise, a distance of only twenty miles. The beauty of France certahily reposes upon Touraine ; and although I have been obliged to speak hai-shly, though truly, of many other jtarts of France, I am willing to allow most amjile praise to tliis chaiming country. Here alone is La Bi lU FnntC(X<> he found ; and here have been laid the legends of the trouba- dours, and the fairy mythology of France. In no part \2ii VnWM \HV rfV Till' I.olUT^. [chap. xli. ,,f ! ranee is the climate better than in Touraine. The heats are not oppressive, aivl tli.y do not con- tinue above six works ; and ahhou-li some days of sharp frost occasionally occur in winter, there are no foK« ; nnd spring " comes up that way" in the lH>t;innin;^ of March. , • i t It was a delichtful country tlirou^^h wlucli 1 passed towards Amboise. 1 ,u;atherod by the way- side abundance of thyme and hivender ; and many of the slopes were covered with the juniper. 3font Loim is a strange villairt^ 'I'hc habitations of the people are excavations out of tlie chalk-hills ; but houses of a better construction are beginning to be erected. There would be a sameness in the des- scriptions, were I to detail mv journey to Amboise, wlure I arrived to an early dinner. Aniboisi-, like all the towns lying upon the Loire, is finely situated ; but the town itself is mean, and poorly "built. It has been rendered of some conse- (luence, however, owing to the place it holds in the pa ca-^t'h-. He is said to liavc resided here in great sfU-ndour ; and t-. have maintained a body of lo(K) hoi-se. Every i u • showed that he had caught the infection of the place. One is more inclined to litur-r in the precincts of a sad than of a <,'av spot ; and it was almost dusk before I could leave ( hanihoid to return to lilois. 1 shall not speedily for-ret the daN 1 -\" nf at Chambord. After such obiects as tlu' ea^tle <.f Blois and Chambord, the traveller looks with eoinparatively little interest upon the lesser obji'Cts wiiich Blois contains. Thev ought not, however, to be i)a8sed ovi r • and in order to admire them, it is only ne- erssarv to visit them first. There is a college, a ehurch and two lini> moimmeiits ; one commemora- thi.r (Jaston, duke of Orleans ; the other, a daugh- ter"of that prince. There is a building, used as a court of justice, as old as the ancient counts of Blois ; and there is an aqueduct, said of couree to be a work of the Romans. , • j v Blois and its neighbourhood are colonized by English, as well as Tours. In expenses, 1 belu^e Bl(^s has rather the advantage ; m society, it is in- ferior to Tours ; and that is just the rea.son why it is 'somewhat cheaper as a residence. The en- , auns of Blois are as attractive as the neighlx.ur- hood of Toui-s ; and Blois has the advantage ot being a day's jounuy nearer Paris. 1 leit Blois to ioiirney'to Orleans, the morning after my return to Chambord. The couutrv botwoon Blois and Orleaus i.s of the ^ same character as that hlng between Amboise and Blois. Beauty and softness are its characteristics, and these are* never wanting. I think, however, that the eouiitrv of the Loire is more interesting, from the histone recollections with which it abounds, and from those records of past days, that so freshlv recall these recollections, than from the charm of the scenery. 1 know that, upon matters of this kind, men's opinions differ according to the comi)lexion of their minds ; and no man, in speak- ing of the merits of a landscape, can do more than record the impression which it has made upon his own mind. I prefer the sconery of several rivers to the scenerv of the Loire. The Rhine, the Rhone, and the Danube all excel it, and the Meuse greatly surpasses it. I know of nothing ui)on the Loire that will bear the least comparison with the views in descending the Meuse from Namur to Liege. At Beaugencv, where there is a bridge across the Loire, lies the seat of the renowned Madame de Pompadour. I spent an hour or two in ramb- ling there, and enjoyed much the dcHghtful pros- pect that the heights above the river commanded. It is as rich and varied a laiulscape as I ever re- collect to have seen. Madame de Pompadour left this charming place to her brother, the mar- quis de Marignv, who much improved and greatly beautified it; and Louis XV. was liberal in his presents of statues to adorn the grounds. I have seen no nuiison de plaisance whose site I prefer to this. . I spent two days upon the road from Blois to Orleans. This was not necessary on account of the distance, but 1 wished to devote a little time to Clerv, where Louis XI. was interred. The church of Notre Dame de Clery was built by Louis XL, who dedicated it to the Vh'giii Mary, who was always the object of this wicked king's devotion ; and from the same feeling of devotion, he desired that his body should be interred in a tomb in that church erected by his own orders. During the wars of the Hugonots, his tomb was broken open, and his bones scattered ; but Louis XIII. erected the present monument in 1622. It is of white marble ; and the king is represented in bas-relief kneeling, and in the attitude of prayer. The nio- nument has been considerably defaced, as might be expected, from the hatred which must ever pursue the memory of this detestable tyrant. The heart of Charles VIII. is preserved in the same tomb. Clery has lost its character for sanctity, b or- merly, it attracted the feet of numerous pilgrims ; for Notre Dame de Clery was paiticularly celebrated for the protection which she afiorded to travellers by land and sea. Any one who found himself in danger, had only to v ! \ APPENDIX. i;^ I i<\U\ ^ ^ '"t It THE SLIDE OF ALPNACH. ^ The following description of this extraordinary un- dertaking is tVni tl.. pen of tlie late professor Pla\ fair : • , , i "'oii the south side of Pilatus, a considerable mountain near Lucerne, are great forests of 8i)ruce- fir, consisting of the finest timber, but in a situation j which the height, the steepness, and the ruggedness of the ground, seemed to render inaccessible. They liad rarely been visited but by the chamois-hunters ; and it x\as ti in t'li, m, in leed, that the first infoi-ma- tion concerning the size of the trees and the extent of tlir forest aj»p(ars to have been received. These woods an- in tlu Canton of Unterwalden, one of those in which the ancient spirit of the Swiss re- I ublics is the best preserved ; where the manners are exf i- rti-ly simple, the occupations of the people mo'^tU ih -*• of agriculture ; where there are no niuuukK lurcs, little accumulation of capital, and no commercial entei-prise. In the possession of such masters, the lofty firs of Pilatus were likely to remain long the ornaments of their native moun- tain. « A few years ago, liowever, Mr. Hupp, a native of Wirtemberg, and a skilful engineer, in which profession he had been educated, indignant at the political changes effected in his own country, was induced to take refuge among a free people, and came to settle in the Canton of Schwytz, on the op- posite side of the lake of Lucerne. The accounts which he heard there of the forest just mentioned determined him to visit it ; and he was so much struck by its aii. arance, that, long and rugged as the descent was, he conceived the bold project of bringing down the trees, by no other force than th(iro\vn w( ight, into the lake of Lucerne, from which the conveyance to the German Ocean was easy and expeditious. A more accurate survey of the ground convinced him of the practicability of the project. "He had, by tin- nm. , resided Icmg enough in Switzerland, to !i.i\ ■■ both his talents and integrity in such estimation, that he was able to prevail on a inunlH r nf tin proprietors to form a company, with a loiii! -.!<•'*, ! > be laid out hi the purchase of the fonsf. a!i i in the construction of the road along which it ^\:i^ iiu* u.'s! 1 iliat the trees should slide duu II mt.. the lake ot Lucerne ; an arm or gulf of wliu h tMrtunately approaches quite near to the bottom ut the iiiouutain. The sum required for this purpose was very considerable for that country, am Mustiiiu to :>,00«)/, or Kl.OOO/. ; 3,000/. to be laid out on tlh purc!ia>e ..t th^ forest, from the commu- nity ut Alpnaeh, th*^ proprietors of it, and the rest IxMug nec« >sar\ for the construction of the singular r ; n 1 w : 1 \ i . * u 1 n . • h I h e trees were to be brough t down . hiaeouuiry where there is little enter])rise, few .apitaiists, and where he was ]Mni-..ir a stranger, I thi> \s as !i..i liie least ditiicult i'ail ui Mr. iaipp's I uuileilaking. « The distance which the trees had to be conveyed is about three of the leagues of that country, or, more exactly, 46,000 feet. The medium height of the forest is about 2500 feet (which measure I took from general Plyffer's model of the Alps, and not from any actual measurement of my own). The horizontal distance just mentioned, when reduced to English measure, making allowance for the Swiss foot, is 44,262 feet— eight English miles and about three furlongs. The declivity is therefore one foot in 17-68 ; the medium angle of elevation 3" 14' 20'. " This declivity, though so moderate on the whole, is, in many places, very rapid. At the be- ginning the inclination is about one-fourth of a right angle, or about 22° 30' ; in many places it is 20°, but nowhere greater than the angle fii-st mentioned, 22° 30'. The inclination continues of this quantity for about 500 feet, after \\ hicli the way is less steep, and often considerably circuitous, according to the directions which the ruggedness of the ground forces it to take. " Along this line the trees descend in a sort of trough built in a cradle form, and extending from the forest to the edge of the lake. Three trees 8(iuared, and laid side by side, form the bottom of the trough ; the tree in the middle having its suH'ace hollowed, so that a rill of water, received from distance to distance over the side of the trough, may be con- veyed along the bottom, and preserve it moist. Adjouiing to the central part (of the trough), other trees, also squared, are laid parallel to the former, in such a manner as to form a trough rounded in the interior, and of such dimensions as to allow the largest trees to he or to move quite readily. When the direction of the trough turns, or has any bend- ing, of which there are many, its sides are made higher and stronger, especially on the convex side, or that from w Inch it bends, so as to provide against the trees bolting or flying out, which they some- times do in spite of every precaution. In general, the trough is from five to six feet wide at top, and fi'om three to four in depth ; varymg, however, in different places, according to circumstances. " This singular road has been constructed at considerable expense ; though, as it goes almost for its whole length through a forest, the materials of construction were at hand, and of small value. It contains, we are told, 30,000 trees ; it is, in general, supported on cross-timbers, that are themselves supported by uprights fixed in the ground ; and these cross-timbei-s are st.inetimes close to the sur- face : they are occasionally under it, and sometimes elevated to a great height above it. It crosses in its way three great nwines : one at the height of 64 feet, another at the height of 103, and the third, where it goes along the face of a rock, at that of 157, In two places it is conveyed under ground. It was finished in 1812. " The trees which descend by this conveyance are spruce-firs, very straight, and of great size. All their branches are lopped off ; they are stripped of the bark ; and the surface, of course, made to- lerably smooth. The trees or logs, of which the trough is built, are dressed with the axe, but with- out much care. " All being thus prepared, the tree is launched with the root end foremost into the steep part of the trough, and in a few seconds acquires such a velocity as enables it to reach the lake in the short space of six minutes ; a result altogether astonish- ing, when it is considered that the distance is more than eight miles, that the average declivity is but one foot in seventeen, and that the route which the trees have to follow is often circuitous, and in some places almost horizontal. « Where large bodies are moved with such velo- city as has now been described, and so tremendous a force of course produced, every thing had need to be done with the utmost regularity, every obsta- cle carefully removed that can obstruct the motion, or that might suffer by so fearful a collision. Every thing, accordingly, with regard to launching off the trees, is directed by telegraphic signals. All along the slide men are "^stationed at different distances, fi-om half a mile to three-quarters, or more ; but so that every station may be seen from the next, both above and below. At each of these stations, also, is a telegraph, consisting of a large board like a door, that turns at its middle on a horizontal axle. When the board is placed upright, it is seen from the two adjacent stations ; when it is turned hori- zontally, or rather parallel to the surface of the ground, it is invisible from both. When the tree is launched from the top, a signal is made by turn- ing the board upright ; the same is followed by the rest ; and thus the information is conveyed, almost instantaneously, all along the slide, that a tree is now on its wav. By-and-by, to any one that is stationed on the side, even to those at a great dis- tance, the same is announced by the roaring of the tree itself, which becomes always louder and louder ; the tree comes in sight, when it is perhaps half a mile distant, and, in an instant after, shoots past with the noise of thunder and the rapidity of lightning. As soon as it has reached the bottom, the lowest telegraph is turned down, the signal passes along all the station, and the workmen at the top are informed that the tree has annved in safetv. Another is set off as expeditiously as possi- ble :'the moment is announced as before ; and the same process is repeated, till the trees that have been got in readiness for that day have been sent down into the lake. , « When a tree sticks by accident, or when it flies out, a signal is made from the nearest station, by half depressing the board, and the workmen from above and below come to assist in getting out the tree that has stuck, or correcthig any thing that is wrong in the slide from the spruiging of a beam m the slide ; and thus the inten-uption to the work is rendered as short as possible. " We saw five trees come down. The place where we stood was near the lower end, and the declivity was inconsiderable (the bottom of the slide nearly resting on the surface), yet the trees passed with astonishing rapidity. The greatest of them was a spruce-fir 100 feet long, four feet m diameter at the lower end, and one at the "PPer. The greatest trees are those that descend with the gi-eatest rapidity ; and the velocity, as well as the roarmg of this one, was evidently greater than the rest. A tree must be very large to descend at all in this manner. A tree, Mr. Hupp mformed us, that was only half the dimensions of the precedmg, and therefore only an eighth part of its weight, would not be able to make its way from the top to the bottom. One of the trees that we saw, broke by some accident into two ; the lighter part stopped almost immediately, and the remaining part eanie to rest soon after. This is a valuable iact : it ap- pears from it, that the friction is not in proportion to the weight, but becomes relatively less as the weight increases, contrary to the opinion that is generally received. "In viewing the descent of the trees, my ne- phew and I stood quite close to the edge of the trough, not being more interested about any thuig thaif to experience the impression which the n« as view of so singular an object must make on a spec- tator. The noise, the rapidity of the motion, the magnitude of the moving body, and the force with which it seemed to shake the trough as it passed, were altogether very formidable, and conveyed an idea of danger much greater than the reality. Our guide refused to partake of our amusement ; he retreated behind a tree at some distance, where he had the consolation to be assured by Mr. Rupp, that he was no safer than we were, as a tree, when it happened to bolt from the trough, would often cut the standing trees clear over. During the whole time the slide has existed, there have been three or four fatal accidents ; and one instance was the consequence of excessive temerity. « I have mentioned, that a provision was made for keepmg the bottom of the trough wet. This is a very useful precaution ; the friction is greatly diminished, and the swiftness is greatly increased by that means. In rainy weather, the trees move much faster than in dry. We were assured, that when the trough was evei^where in its most per- fect condition, the weather wet, and the trees very large, the descent was sometimes made in as short a tune as three minutes. " The trees thus brought down into the lake ol Lucerne, are formed into rafts, and floated down the very rapid stream of the Reuss, by which the lake discharges its water— first into the Aar, and then into the Rhine. By this conveyance, vn huh is all of it in streams of great rapidity, the trees some- times reach Basil in a few days after they have lett Lucerne ; and there the intermediate concern of the Alpnaeh company terminated. They still con- tinue to be navigated down the Rhine m rafts to Holland, and are afloat in the German Ocean m less than a month from having descended from the side of Pilatus, a verv inland mountain, not less than a thousand miles'distant. The late emperor of France had made a contract for all the timber thus brought do\yn:'— Professor PlT f'UBLlSHrJ), UNIFORM WITB THE PRESENT WORK, KOCH'S HISTORY OF EUROPE, From the Subversion of tlie Roman Empire in the West to the Abdication of Napoleon. Translated by Ammikw Ckichto.n. L ! . t > Second Edition, Price 6«. " A most valuable work, and written with much care." — Heeren. " An excellent book." — Professor Smyth's Lectures on Modern History. 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