THE BRÜNIG--LUNGERN--SACHELN--SARNEN--ALPNACH--STANZ--ENNETBURGEN.
Liberty,
Whose touch gives double life--THOMSON.
At 10.45, got on our legs at Brienz. The sun had now become warm, but
there was a fresh air. Two four-horse diligences were waiting for the
arrival of the boat. I placed my _malle_ weighing 30 lbs., and my _sac_
12 lbs., on the roof of one of them, with orders that they should be
left for me at Lungern; and we were off.
One begins a walking expedition jauntily. You are going to do the
work yourself; and you feel equal to it. You are breaking away from
the conventions and bondage of society. The cords snap as you step
out. You will be emancipated from the clock. You are shaking off the
incubus of duty. Responsibility, duty’s daughter, goes with her. You
shrug your shoulders to make sure that they are going. Conscience
means now to go where you please; and to stop when, and where, you
please. You are strong and free; and the sense of strength and freedom
is intoxicating. Liberty, thy law is good, and shall be mine! Your
heart beats gaily. You have simplified the grammar by abolishing the
conditional mood: henceforth you will deal only in the indicative and
the imperative.
For the first two miles, or so, the road continues in the valley with
the newly embanked channel of the Aare on the right, and some high
cliffs on the left. It then begins to ascend the Brünig. We reached
Lungern--the books say the distance is 10½ miles--in 2½ hours. The two
diligences drew up at the door of the hotel as we were entering it.
They had, therefore, taken just the same time as we had to come from
Brienz. We, however, had for some part of the way come by the more
direct line of the old horse-road; and when using the carriage-road had
cut off the zig zags. There are some good views on the Brünig in both
directions. To the south, there are spots from which it commands parts
of the Vale of Hasli, with many snowy summits beyond. To the north,
the eye ranges over the top of the forest, along the whole valley
of Unterwalden, between its two bounding ranges, with very varying
outlines, over the lakes of Lungern and Sarnen, to the distant Pilatus.
The interest of a walk among the mountains never flags, whether they
are naked, or clothed with forest; and still more, if the ground you
are passing over is diversified with forests, prairies, rocks, upland
pastures, and streams. On the north side of the Brünig are some
charming bits, where lofty trees, beech and fir, with straight stems,
reach up to you from below, on your right as you descend to Lungern;
and others on your left, with straight stems also, springing from above
the road, here cut in a groove, tower above you. And, then, if you lift
your eyes from the immediate _entourage_, you have, in the distance,
Alps and valley combined; and below you spots of greenest turf with
detached trees and _châlets_. In the short cuts through the forest you
have the chequered light and shade, luxuriant ferns, and the odour of
the pines. On this day it was cool under foot from the soaking the
hills had got two nights back, and which had also so thoroughly washed
the road that no dust was anywhere to be seen.
I remained at Lungern for the rest of the day, that I might look at
the allotments of the peasants. These were chiefly in the 500 acres of
bottom land, which had been gained by lowering the lake. This work was
accomplished by the peasants themselves, by cutting a tunnel through
the rocky ridge that forms the foot, here the northern boundary, of
the lake. You everywhere see the old margin of the lake, about 120
feet in vertical height, above the present level of the water. The
diminished lake, like its neighbour of Sarnen, abounds in fish, which
this day contributed to both my dinner and supper. While I was taking
the latter, with no companion but my own thoughts, a young woman,
connected with the Inn, approached, and leaning against the sill of
the window opposite to my chair, entered into conversation with me.
At first I supposed that she was prompted merely by the good-natured
desire that a solitary stranger should have some one to talk with. But
she soon told me that her object was to find whether I could assist her
in carrying out a wish she had to get to England, to learn English. She
was willing to give her services, _sans gages_, to a family that would
board and lodge her, and give her a lesson daily in English. Of course,
this little scheme was not motived by a disinterested thirst for
knowledge, but by a praiseworthy desire to get on in the world. For an
acquaintance with English is an accomplishment which at present secures
for those, who have attained to it, well-paid places in Swiss hotels.
* * * * *
_Aug. 4._--Had breakfasted, and left Lungern at 6 A.M. Sent on my
_malle_ and _sac_ by a porter, who started 15 minutes before me.
Reached Sacheln at 8.30, and found that the porter had already
arrived. The road passes along what remains of the lake of Lungern,
next along a gentle descent of two or three miles, and then along the
lake of Sarnen. At Lungern I found that the carriage traffic had been
interrupted for a time by the storm of Friday night. It took all the
labour, that could be brought upon the road, during the two following
days, to render it passable. As I walked along, I counted twelve
places where torrents had, on that night, in their descent from the
mountains, cut through the road, or deposited barriers of mountain
_débris_ upon it. In two instances culverts, for carrying torrents
beneath the road, had been swept away. As such a storm had occurred,
I was glad to have an opportunity for seeing its effects. In some
places, where the storm-torrents had cut for themselves channels on the
mountain side, only soil had been brought down, and in some only small
stones. These were places in which the incline was not great. In other
places, where the mountain side was precipitous, large rocks had been
undermined, and dislodged, and swept down by the rush of water. The
largest rock I saw on the road--I did not go off the road to look for
effects--was in a place where it passed through a wood, and a bridge
had been carried away. Here the prisoners from the jail of Sarnen,
with shackled feet, were at work under the inspection of a _gendarme_.
This rock was a cube of somewhat more than 3 feet. There were tens of
thousands of tons of rocks of less size above, and below, and around.
One can imagine with what crashing, and thundering, they must have come
down through this wood--a torrent, a continuous avalanche, of rocks.
I observed in one place, where a torrent had at last reached a gently
sloping meadow, that it had formed for itself a levée on each side,
and had rigidly confined itself to the space between the two levées.
The pieces of wood and stone, and the earth it had carried along with
it, when running down a greater incline, it had, when it reached the
meadow, where, from flowing with less rapidity, it was no longer able
to carry them along, dropped, and piled up on the right and left. And,
then, these torrent-constructed barriers had confined the torrent, that
had constructed them, to the intermediate space. The grass, just fit
to be cut for the second hay crop, was standing outside the levées,
as erect as if there had been no storm at all; but between the levées
it was either completely washed up by the roots, and carried away, or
flattened down to the ground. It was interesting, and instructive, to
have presented for leisurely examination this instance of the way in
which rivers often embank themselves. The immediate bank of the Nile
is generally raised considerably above the level of the country it is
passing through; and so it must be with all rivers whose waters are
at times much charged with solid matter, readily deposited. If during
the coal epoch the amount of rain-fall in this part of the world, or
generally throughout the world, was greatly in excess of what it is
now, the kind of work exhibited in my walk of this morning, that is to
say the transportation of soil and broken rock from higher to lower
levels, must then have been going on upon a grand scale. There are, I
suppose, reasons for believing in a wet epoch at that time, just as
there are for believing that there was once a glacial epoch.
On the gently rising mountain, on the side of the lake of Sarnen
opposite to the road, there is a great deal of land in small prairies.
It may be inferred that almost all these prairies are private property
from the way in which they are interspersed with _châlets_, and planted
with trees. Here and there are patches of grain, the golden colour of
which, at this season, contrasts well with the bright green of the
prairies, and the dark green of the trees, and patches of wood. Above,
are more extended forests, and mountain pastures. Many of both of these
latter belong to the Commune. In the foreground is the blue lake. The
whole is a varied, quiet, charming scene.
I called a halt at Sacheln, as I had a letter to one of the magnates of
the place--in the address he was styled as Bundesrichter--who had paid
some attention to the history, and present working, in Unterwalden, of
the Swiss system of commonable land. I intended in the afternoon to
go on to Sarnen. I put up at the Rössli Inn, between the road and the
church, kept by Von Ah. He is a rough-looking fellow, but I found him
good-natured, talkative, and intelligent. He had much to say about the
past history of the Canton, and the present condition of the people.
He was proud, and with good reason, of the _gaststube_ of his wooden
house. Its walls were covered with carved panelling. The _buffet_ was
very rich in carving, into which was introduced the date of 1619. The
clock, by the same token, had been ticking for a hundred and one years.
For dinner he gave me two kinds of fish from the lake--alet and
boriksen, as the rosy, black-eyed damsel in attendance told me, with
pleasure at finding that she could answer the stranger’s questions.
Then came, in succession, a veal steak, a mutton stew, stewed prunes,
cheese, dessert, and a bottle of eau de Seltz. As the good man’s charge
for all this was but two francs, and, to be precise, ten centimes, he
must have taken the satisfaction he had felt at showing his _gaststube_
in part payment.
I found the Bundesrichter ready to give me the information I required,
and to aid me in any way he could. He procured for me a printed copy of
all the regulations relating to the public property of the Commune; and
offered to answer by post whatever questions might subsequently occur
to me.
* * * * *
At Sacheln, of course, one goes to the church to stand before the
bones, and the old coat, of St. Nicholas Von der Flüe, for the sake of
the thoughts the sight may give rise to in the mind, on the spot. He
a saint! Heaven save the mark; and some day send the simple folk of
Unterwalden better ideas on what goes to make a saint. This saint was
one only because to indulge a morbid crotchet, at all events a mistaken
and mischievous idea, he deserted his family, and the duties he owed
to them, to his neighbours, and to himself, to live in solitude,
and mortification, in a cave; and who gave out, as vouching for his
sanctity, that for eighteen years heaven had supported his body with
no other food than the sacramental wafer, received once a month. This
was what made him a saint. Why, there is not a rural parish in England
without its poor Hodge, who is a better man, a truer saint than he;
and who, if at last he were to break down under the strain on mind and
body he is now manfully sustaining, and attempt what invested this
old crazy ascetic with the halo of sainthood, would be bid by the law
to maintain, and not to desert, his family. And who, if he were to
defend his dereliction of natural duty by the assertion that heaven
was keeping him alive without food, would be regarded as belonging to
the same class of impostors as the Welsh fasting girl. And yet here,
in this church, dedicated to the God of truth, and Who is to be served
by truth, are exhibited the troglodyte’s bones, and his old coat,
by the priest who ministers at the altar, and by the ecclesiastical
authorities who stand behind the priest; and who are teaching the
peasants of Unterwalden that these bones, and this old coat, work
miracles. Over the old coat they have set up the text of Holy Writ,
from the nineteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, which tells us
that ‘from the body of Paul were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs
and aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the evil spirits
went out of them.’ And there on the walls around are the tablets which
affirm the miracles this old coat has worked. It must have worked them,
for the infallible authority of God’s Vicar will vouch for it. Poor
Hodge! let us hope that your turn will some day come; and that the
miracle of patient and unnoticed self-denial, your life exhibits, will
work the mighty miracle of bringing some of us to understand in what
virtue and sanctity consist, and of casting out the evil spirits of
discontent, selfishness, and vice.
* * * * *
From Sacheln to Sarnen I went by the lake. The boat was of unpainted
deal, of the size, form, and colour of the boats you see on all the
Swiss and Italian lakes. It was propelled by two men, standing up, and
working their paddles, _vis-a-vis_. You are reminded of a gondola,
though why is not obvious, for the resemblance is as lacking in body as
that between Monmouth and Macedon. These lake-boats are flat-bottomed,
with their bows rising out of the water in the segment of a circle. Any
village carpenter might put them together. The flat bottom is connected
with the perpendicular sides by wooden angle-pieces, fastened with
wooden pins. Till recently iron was dear in Switzerland; and wood, and,
in winter, time were cheap. The same cause led to the same practice
in the construction of their _châlets_, for which wooden trenails
were used. In the English church at Meiringen, hardly yet finished, I
observed that the fastenings of the benches, of the church furniture,
of the window mullions, &c., were of the same material, though by the
aid of the railway iron fastenings must be now of much the same price
in Meiringen as in Belgium and Germany. In this, as in many other
things, a practice, long after what gave rise to it has been removed by
a change in circumstances, is still conserved by custom.
To Sarnen the lake is about three quarters of an hour. I was satisfied
at finding myself on the water; not merely because it was a pleasant
change from exertion to repose, but also because it gave an opportunity
for seeing both sides of the valley to advantage. But that was not all.
There is in water something that is of itself pleasing. We may not be
able to define precisely what it is that makes it so, but we feel that
it is so. It has a kind of history; a kind of life; an intelligible
purpose. It came from far, from other parts of the world, on the way it
had passed through other forms. It is moving back to the great ocean
from whence it came. It will, as it returns, be supporting organized
life. To the eye, to the ear, to the bodily sense, it is pleasing: and
so is it also to the mental apprehension.
As you enter Sarnen you pass its asylum for the destitute. Upon its
front is the inscription ‘Christo in pauperibus.’ I suppose this is
meant as a reference to His saying that whatever is done to the least
of His brethren--it being implied that those who have nothing in this
world are least of all--He will regard as done unto Himself. He, then,
is in the pauper, looking for, and ready to acknowledge, the charity
of the disciple. The expression is worthy of the idea, and of the
sentiment that animates the idea.
Sarnen is a quaint, quiet place. Ammer would have me go to the _Hotel
de Ville_ to see a model in relief of Switzerland, and the portraits of
some score, or more, of landammans, enriched and sanctified, of course,
by that of Nicholas Von der Flüe, for he is everywhere in Unterwalden.
The preternatural ugliness, the out-of-the-world expression, ‘the
abominable imitation of humanity’ of these old local celebrities
seemed, somehow or other, in keeping with the place. The expression of
the features is the expression of the mind: that, sometimes perhaps its
absence, is what they express. But the generations of worthies, who had
successively vegetated in this then both unvisited, and imprisoning,
valley, which had neither ingress nor egress, could have had but little
mind to express in their features. Some of them, methought, looked,
what at the best they could have been only a remove or two from, like
cowherds who had prospered in their world, and after a life spent on
the mountains in summer, and in the stables in winter, waiting on their
cows, had arrived at last at the happiness of being able to eat as
much cheese as they pleased, without the trouble of making it: and so
had grown fat. But this only puffed out, and so made more obtrusive,
the indelible cowherd expression. Perhaps, too, their portraits would
have been more pleasing, and more indicative of mind, if the worthies,
and their fathers before them, had not been taught to believe in their
troglodyte saint; and, as another perhaps, we will hope that the
railway, by bringing the world to the rising generation, and taking
them into the world, may do something to make their features and
expression an improvement on those of their ancestors. At all events
it will, I think, have the effect of lowering the place of the saint’s
coat in the therapeutics of the valley.
_August 5._--Left Sarnen at 6 A.M., and in little more than an hour
reached Alpnach, where I breakfasted while waiting for the steamer,
that was to take me to Stanzstad. Alpnach is a populous village at the
head of the Alpnach See, a branch of the lake of the four Cantons,
which from this point stretches away to the north-east. It stands at
the bottom of the south-east slope of Pilatus, the well wooded flank
of which here comes down to the lake. The walk had been through a
broad grassy valley, thickly planted, in some parts, with fruit trees.
Perhaps the walk on the eastern side of the valley, through Kerns, to
Stanz, my immediate destination, would have been over more diversified,
as it would have been over higher, ground. And this, I believe, would
have brought me to Stanz sooner than the route I took, for I lost
at Alpnach an hour in waiting for the steamer. The water was the
attraction, and the view, I should have from the water, of Pilatus. But
I was satisfied with the way I went, and that was enough.
The steamer was not long in reaching Stanzstad, where we again got on
our legs, and in a little more than half an hour were in the Angel of
Stanz--a quiet inn, about the centre of the place, facing the church.
As the Commune of Stanz possesses an unusual amount of cultivable
land, so much as to enable it to give to each of its numerous burgers
an unusual amount of garden-ground, I spent the rest of the day here
in looking into the working of the system. And again the next morning
on the way to Buochs, where I was to take the steamer for the Canton
of Uri, I inspected a large part of the Almend ground of Stanz. Each
burger peasant is allowed 1,400 klafters, which is about equal to an
English acre. Of this amount I found 800 in garden-ground, and the rest
in marshy grass. Switzerland, speaking generally, has very little straw
for foddering cattle, but a great many cattle to fodder. The rushes,
sedges, and young reeds cut from such land, and dried, go some way
towards supplying this want. This difficulty is so great that I have
seen horse-keepers resort for bedding to a mixture of sawdust, and of
leaves and weeds that had been collected in the woods, and then dried
and stored away.
_August 6._--While waiting for the steamer at Buochs, there was time to
contemplate a charming piece of Swiss life, which is held up for you,
to take your fill of looking at it, on the long slant of the opposite
mountain, beyond the blue lake. It is on the broad south-eastern slope
of the mountainous promontory called Obburgen, that runs out into the
lake, midway between the Rigiberg and Pilatus, and would, but for two
narrow straits, join on to the former on the right, and to the latter
on the left. I see in Dufour’s map the place is called Ennetburgen. I
did not set foot in it myself, nor am I acquainted with any one who
has, but if the working of inner causes may, sometimes, be read on
the outside of things, then, industrious, frugal, contented, happy
Ennetburgen! that has neither riches, nor poverty; that knows neither
waste nor want; and where every man feels that he is a man, because
a portion of the earth, the common and ennobling inheritance of all,
is his! For two thirds, or so, up the mountain, its gentle ascent is
almost all in small prairies, very green, and thickly planted with
fruit trees, with just here and there, as at Sacheln, small patches
of, at this season, golden grain, to enrich the tender green of the
grass, and the darker green of the fruit trees. The upper third of the
mountain is in forests for fuel, and in summer grazing ground for cows.
But the characteristic feature is the houses. There is no town. That
has, as it were, been taken to pieces, and evenly dispersed, house by
house, over the whole space of some thousands of acres. Each house is a
modest carefully kept home.
This is a scene that tells its own tale. The properties must be small,
because the owners of these dispersed houses must possess, each, the
land immediately around his house; for, of course, in such a place
there can hardly be any other means of living than that derived from
the land. And nothing, but the fact that, here, each man cultivates
with his own hands his own land, can account for the completeness with
which the rocks have been quarried, and removed; and for the loving
care with which the grass, and fruit trees, are tended. How unlike was
this to the aspect of the Almend lands of Stanz I had just been looking
at. There the plan is to do as little as possible for the land, and
to get as much as possible out of it this current year. Next year, or
at all events in a year or two, some other transitory occupant will
be treating it with the same thoughts, and in the same fashion. Here
the heart of the owner is in his land, as, for many generations, the
hearts of his forefathers have been. We can show nothing of this kind
in England. With us there is not the relation of man to the land which
can alone produce such a scene. But I believe that in old, almost
prehistoric Italy, before it was devastated, and ruined, by the greed,
and brutality, of Rome, many such scenes might have been looked upon.
The same careful culture of small properties was, probably, in very
many places there the rule then; with the addition, in harmony with the
circumstances of those times, of some loftily walled place of refuge,
seen from far, on its coign of vantage: as Virgil describes them,
‘Towns perched on precipices of rock, with rivers gliding by beneath
their antique walls.’