PREHISTORIC LAKE-DWELLERS--AN ISLAND INN AND ITS MEMORIES.
If one cares to inquire about that mysterious prehistoric race known
as the lake-dwellers of Switzerland, he can do so to his heart’s
content at and about Zürich. If he wants to dig up their remains for
himself--and has plenty of money and time to spare--there is nothing to
hinder him from doing so. He has only to run a deep plow through places
along the shore of Lake Zürich where there are indications of peat,
and it is almost certain that sooner or later he will come on traces
of a primeval village. The first sign of it would be the badly decayed
fragments of a thick stake or pile. Sometimes well-preserved specimens
of these piles are found in great numbers, though more often they are
rotted out of all recognition. They are the props which held up the
lake-villages high and dry. They were driven into the chalky soil of
the lake-bottom, where they stuck fast. In the unknown centuries which
have flown since then, those parts of the lake have filled up, peat has
formed to the depth of five or six feet, and on top of this are two or
three feet of mold and loam. Having struck a pile, our investigator
must go straight down through the deep peat-bed which surrounds and
underlies it. He will soon come to a half-earthy stratum, in which, if
lucky, he will find numerous queer things. For this particular layer
may contain many kinds of objects--useful and ornamental--once highly
prized by, if not indispensable to, the comfort and happiness of the
simple lake-dwellers. It may readily be imagined that such articles
would accidentally fall from the house into the water beneath, there be
buried in the mud, and never be recovered by the owners. Doubtless some
of them, when broken or worn out in use, were thrown down there with a
“good-riddance.”
It is believed, from many indubitable signs, that these lake-houses
(built of wicker-work) were destroyed by fire to an extent that would
appall any insurance company of our day that took risks on such
property. You see, these people, like some savage tribes now existing,
had much difficulty in starting and keeping fire. They obtained it only
by the rapid twirling of a pointed piece of wood on a flat piece. The
friction ignited some tinder-like substance. As they had no stoves,
hearths, or chimneys, this precious fire was kept--so far as modern
conjecture goes--upon a stone in the middle of the hut. There it was
watched night and day to preserve it and see that it did no harm. But
occasionally the watchers slept, or went off fishing or courting, and
then the fire, as is its mischievous habit, caught upon the nearest
combustible stuff. And so in five minutes poor Mr. Lake-Dweller was
houseless and homeless, and all his earthly possessions were at the
bottom of the lake. It was a great piece of good fortune if the entire
village did not disappear at the same time. Think of such a catastrophe
occurring, and no newspaper to do justice to it!
We left our enthusiastic explorer with his boots ankle-deep in the
boggy soil beneath the peat-bed. It has cost him a great deal of money
to lay open the treasure-bearing stratum. But he feels amply rewarded
even if he has lighted on nothing better than the stone age of the
lake-dwellers, for there he will find most interesting proofs of the
identity of human nature in different ages and climes. The earliest
period in their shadowy history is called “stone,” to distinguish it
from the “bronze” age that followed. In point of fact, the former
overlapped the latter, but for convenience the two designations are
employed as best expressing the chief characteristic of the two ages.
In the first, stone was the material out of which hammers, adzes,
and arrow-heads were made. The patterns of these closely resemble
those adopted by our North American Indians. In weight as in shape
there is no recognizable difference; and the same good judgment was
shown in the choice of stones best adapted for every purpose. The
most skillful lapidaries of our day could not produce finer work in
porphyry, flint, and crystal than may be found among the relics of the
lake-dwellers. Though a very practical people, they were not without
æsthetic tastes. Otherwise, in making their rude pottery by hand they
would not have introduced decorative lines and dots. Nothing could be
more severely simple than the designs which appear on their water-jars,
cooking-vessels, and drinking-cups. The lines are crossed like a
hedge-fence. The dots are arranged in rows, several of these forming
a band. You there see the art of pottery in its infancy. Utility was
the chief end sought, and, doubtless, the unsymmetrical and clumsy
pots, bowls, pitchers, and goblets of the lake-dwellers answered their
purpose admirably.
As to the fishing-nets of their day, no improvement could be desired.
The specimens recovered are made of the strongest hemp lines, of large
size, with “hobs and sinkers.” Lake Zürich supplied the table with
excellent fish in that far-off time, as now. And the lake-dwellers
were mighty hunters also. Bones of the bear and deer and all the
wild animals of the present Switzerland, with those of creatures now
extinct, are mingled with the other remains. They were a pastoral race,
besides. They raised millet and other cereals, and ground these into
a coarse flour, as appears from samples of their baked bread. Instead
of the horse they had the reindeer as a servant, and, with training,
he proved a useful one. For aught I know, he carried his master into
battle--in which case his speed would have enabled him to make a quick
retreat when the enemy’s fire of arrows became too hot. For, alas!
the lake-dwellers were either a persecuted race or an aggressive one
at some stage of their history. Implements of war are the most common
of finds, and the site and structure of the villages--so far as we
understand the subject--indicate extreme precautions for defense. It is
evident that the settlements were situated at some distance from the
old shore of the lake and approachable only by boats, or possibly by a
bridge, which could be raised or turned on a pivot at pleasure.
It might be the fortune of our patient friend the digger to strike
a mine of bronze implements. Then he would realize the inventive
capacity of the lake-dwellers. The discovery or adoption of the
art of combining copper and tin as bronze stimulated their native
ingenuity wonderfully. It is supposed that they obtained the two
metals (rare, if found at all, in Switzerland) from England, Wales,
or some other country, in the course of trade. Be this as it may, the
quantity of bronze in use was large. It was employed for every purpose
of war and peace. Spear-heads, knives, and daggers or swords of the
“Roman” pattern, lie in the stratum by the side of coarse needles,
hair-pins, bracelets, and other articles of toilet use and ornament.
The composition of the bronze is about ninety per cent of copper and
ten of tin. This is slightly varied at times. The objects distinctively
ornamental have a brighter red or even a golden color, and are really
beautiful.
But all the trouble and expense of attaining this knowledge about the
lake-dwellers of Switzerland may be saved by the diligent searcher for
truth. He need only visit the magnificent collection of antiquities
at Zürich as I did, and learn all these things much better at
second-hand. But he will be baffled if he expects to discover from any
evidence before him how many centuries ago the lake-dwellers lived,
and suffered, and passed away. Speculation is rife on this subject.
Antiquaries hold to views widely different. Where they disagree, it
is not for the humble learner to decide. It is much wiser for him to
enjoy unquestioningly the inspection of these remarkable relics of a
prehistoric age than to rack his brains in futile efforts to fix the
precise period of the lake-dwellers in the eras of man.
When we were shown into a chamber of the Insel Hotel at Constance,
my curiosity was at once excited by the singular appearance of a
room which opens out of that apartment. It is not large enough for a
parlor. It is too poorly lighted for a study or boudoir. It has three
narrow windows which are partly overgrown with ivy. They look on Lake
Constance, which then shone a deep green under the setting sun. The
wall of the chamber at the place where the two rooms join is about two
and a half feet thick. Putting my hand upon the showy paper that covers
the walls, I know by the touch that these are stone. Then, as I observe
that the little room is round in shape, the thought flashes upon me
that it is part of a tower, and perhaps in by-gone times may have been
a cell in which somebody was confined.
The servant, who had been watching me in an amused manner, then made
his dramatic stroke. “This was the dungeon of John Huss,” was all he
said. And it was enough. His words recalled the fact that Huss, at some
time previous to his execution by order of the Council of Constance,
was imprisoned in a Dominican monastery of that city. Now the “Insel”
is that identical retreat, transformed into one of the most picturesque
and interesting hotels of Europe. The venerable cloisters have been
preserved intact. The great refectory of the monks is now a restaurant
full of good cheer in meat and drink. It witnessed scenes of revelry in
the old monastic days, as one may gather from the jovial inscriptions
still preserved on the walls. The church of the fraternity is now
the immense dining-room of the hotel, modernized and made secular of
aspect. This building was a stronghold four centuries ago. Then, as
now, it was surrounded by water. For this reason it was selected as one
of the successive prisons of John Huss. There he was beyond the hope of
rescue by his friends and partisans.
Visiting the Guildhall of Constance next day, I saw additional
evidences of the precautions taken for his safe-keeping. There is the
massive door of oak, with iron bands and enormous locks, which was
rarely if ever opened during his confinement. For a little wicket in
this door served for the inspection of the prisoner by his jailers
and also to pass in food to him. There is the great stone in the
dungeon-floor to which he was chained. The windows of the cell as they
now appear are small; but much larger than the old apertures. One of
these openings for air and light is exhibited at the Guildhall. It
is only a slit of three or four inches wide, cut through the thick
stone. Among the other objects relating to the martyrdom of Huss, in
the same collection, are the van in which he was borne to the place of
execution and the brocaded chairs occupied by the Emperor Sigismund
and the Pope at the council. In the plain of Brühl, just outside the
city of Constance, one may see a rude memorial which marks the place
where Huss and later on Jerome of Prague were burned at the stake. It
is a great rock, quite rough, covered with ivy and bearing appropriate
inscriptions. A tall iron railing prevents a near approach to the spot.