A Swiss Inn.--Cataract of the Rhine.--Canton of Zurich.--Town of
Zurich.--Singular Concurrence.--Formidable Ascent.--Exquisite
View.--Einsiedeln--The Convent.--"_Par exemple_."--Shores of the Lake of
Zug.--The _Chemin Creux_.--Water Excursion to Alpnach.--Lake of
Lungern.--Lovely Landscape.--Effects of Mists on the prospect.--Natural
Barometer.--View from the Brunig.--Enter the great Canton of Berne.--An
Englishman's Politics.--Our French Companion.--The Giesbach.--Mountain
Music.--Lauterbrunnen.--Grindewald.--Rising of the Waters in
1830.--Anecdote.--Excursion on the Lake to Thoun.
Dear ----,
We had sought refuge on the Rhine, from the tameness and monotony of
Wurtemberg! I dare say the latter country has many beautiful districts,
that it contains much to admire and much to awaken useful reflection,
but to the mere passer-by it is not a land of interest. Like a boat that
has unexpectedly got into a strong adverse current, we had put our helm
down and steered out of it, to the nearest shore. Here we were then, and
it became necessary to say where we should be next. My own eyes were
turned wistfully towards the east, following the road by the Lake of
Constance, Inspruck, and Saltzbourg, to Vienna; but several of our party
were so young when we were in Switzerland, in 1828, that it seemed
ungracious to refuse them this favourable opportunity to carry away
lasting impressions of a region that has no parallel. It was, therefore,
settled before we slept, again to penetrate the cantons next morning.
I heard the drum-like sound of the inn once more with great
satisfaction; for although the house, judging from the coronets and
armorial bearings about it, had once been the abode of a count, it was
not free from the peculiar echoes of a true Swiss tenement, any more
than it was free from its neatness. The drum, however, did not prevent
us all from sleeping soundly, and after an early breakfast we went forth
on this new pilgrimage to the mountains.
There was an end to posting, no relays existing in this part of
Switzerland, and I had been compelled to confide in the honesty of an
unknown _voiturier_; a class of men who are pre-eminently subject to the
long-established frailty of all who _deal_ in horses, wines, lamp-oil,
and religion. Leaving this functionary to follow with the carriage, we
walked along the banks of the river, by a common-place and dirty road,
among forges and mills, to the cataract of the Rhine. What accessories
to a cataract! How long will it be before the imagination of a people
who are so fast getting to measure all greatness, whether in nature or
art, by the yard-stick, will think of those embellishments for Niagara?
Fortunately the powers of men are not equal to their wishes and a mill
by the side of this wonder of the world will be a mill still; whereas
these falls of the Rhine are nearly reduced to the level of a raceway,
by the spirit of industry. We were less struck with them than ever, and
left the place with the conviction that, aided by a few _suitable_
embellishments, they would have been among the prettiest of the pretty
cascades that we know, but that, as matters go, they are in danger of
soon losing the best part of their charms. We saw no reason, in this
instance, to change the impressions made at the former visit, but think,
the volume of water excepted, that Switzerland has cascades that outdo
this cataract.
After following the course of the river, for a few miles, we met the
stream, buried low in the earth, at one of its sudden bends, and,
descending a sharp declivity, crossed to its left bank, and into the
Canton of Zurich. We were taken by surprise, by this sudden rencontre,
and could hardly believe it was the mighty Rhine, whose dark waters were
hurrying beneath us, as we passed a covered bridge of merely a hundred
or two feet in length. One meets with a hundred streams equal to this in
width, while travelling in America, though it is rare to find one
anywhere with the same majesty of motion, and of its fine cerulean tint.
We had travelled an hour or two towards Zurich, before our eyes were
greeted with the sight of peaks capped with snow. They looked like the
faces of old acquaintances, and, distance depriving them of their
severity, they now shone in a mild sublimity. We were all walking ahead,
while the horses were eating, when these noble objects came into the
view, and, preceding the rest a little, I involuntarily shouted with
exultation, as, turning a knoll, they stood ranged along the horizon.
The rest of the party hurried on, and it was like a meeting of dear
friends, to see those godlike piles encircling the visible earth.
The country through which we travelled, was the low land of which I have
so often spoken, nor was it particularly beautiful or well cultivated
until we drew near the capital, when it assumed the polished look of the
environs of a large town; and the approach to Zurich, on this side,
though less romantic perhaps, wanting the lake and mountains, we
thought, if anything, was more beautiful than that by which we had come
in 1828.
We were much gratified with the appearance of Zurich; more even than in
our former visit, and not the less so at finding it unusually empty. The
agitated state of Europe, particularly of England, has kept the usual
class of travellers at home, though the cantons are said to be pretty
well sprinkled with Carlists, who are accused of assembling here lo
plot. M. de Châteaubriand is in the same hotel as ourselves, but it has
never been my fortune to see this distinguished writer to know him, even
accidentally; although I afterwards learned that, on one occasion, I had
sat for two hours on a bench immediately before him, at a meeting of the
French Academy. My luck was no better now, for he went away unseen, an
hour after we arrived. Some imagine themselves privileged to intrude on
a celebrity, thinking that those men will pardon the inconvenience for
the flattery, but I do not subscribe to this opinion: I believe that
nothing palls sooner than notoriety, and that nothing is more grateful
to those who have suffered under it, than retirement.
By a singular concurrence, we were at Zurich the second time on Sunday,
and almost on the same day of the year. In 1828, we drove along the
lake-shore, August 30th, and we now left Zurich, for the same purpose,
August 28th, after an interval of four years. The same objects were
assembled, under precisely the same circumstances: the lake was covered
with boats, whose tall sails drooped in pure laziness; the solemn bells
startled the melancholy echoes, and the population was abroad, now as
then, in holiday guise, or crowding the churches. The only perceptible
changes in the scene were produced by the change in our own direction.
Then we looked towards the foot of the lake, and had its village-lined
shores before us, and the country that melts away towards the Rhine for
a back-ground; while now, after passing the objects in the near view,
the sight rested on the confused and mysterious mountains of Glaris.
We took our _goûter_ at the _Paon_, and, unwilling to cross the bridge
in the carriage, we all preceded it through the crowded streets of
Rapperschwyl, leaving the _voiturier_ to follow at his leisure. We were
just half an hour on this bridge, which appeared as ticklish as ever,
though not so much as to stifle the desire of P---- to see how near its
edge he could walk. When we entered Schweitz, the carriage overtook us,
and we drove to the foot of the mountain which it is necessary to ascend
to reach Einsiedeln. Here we took _chevaux de renfort_, and a
reinforcement they proved indeed; for I do not remember two nobler
animals than the _voiturier_ obtained for the occasion. They appeared to
be moulded on the same scale as the mountains. We were much amused by
the fellow's management, for he contrived to check his own cattle in
such a way as to throw all the work on the recruits. This was not
effected without suspicion; but he contrived to allay it, by giving his
own beasts sundry punches in the sides, so adroitly bestowed as to
render them too restive to work. By way of triumph, each poke was
accompanied by a knowing leer at François, all whose sympathies, a
tribute to his extraction, I have had frequent opportunities of
observing, to my cost, were invariably on the side of the _voituriers_.
So evident, indeed, was this feeling in the gentleman, that had I been
accustomed to travel much by this mode, I should not have kept him a
month.
It was a mild evening as we travelled our way up this formidable ascent,
which is one of the severest in Switzerland, and we had loitered so much
along the shores of the lake, as to bring us materially behind our time.
Still it was too late to return, and we made the best of things as they
were. It is always more pleasant to ascend than to descend, for the
purposes of scenery; and, as picture after picture broke upon us, the
old touzy-mouzy was awakened, until we once more felt ourselves in a
perfect fever of mountain excitement. In consequence of diverging by a
foot-path, towards the east, in descending this mountain, in 1828, I had
missed one of the finest reaches of its different views, but which we
now enjoyed under the most favourable circumstances. The entire
converging crescent of the north shore of the lake, studded with white
churches, hamlets, and cottages, was visible, and as the evening sun
cast its mild light athwart the crowded and affluent landscape, we
involuntarily exclaimed, "that this even equalled the Neapolitan coast
in the twilight." The manner in which the obscurity settled on this
picture, slowly swallowing up tower after tower, hamlet, cottage, and
field, until the blue expanse of the lake alone reflected the light from
the clouds, was indescribably beautiful, and was one of those fine
effects that can only be produced amid a nature as grand as that of the
Alps.
It was dark when we reached the inn at the summit; but it was not
possible to remain there, for it had room for little more than
kirschwasser. The night came on dark and menacing, and for near two
hours we crawled up and down the sharp ascents and descents, and, to
make the matter worse, it began to rain. This was a suitable approach to
the abodes of monastic votaries, and I had just made the remark, when
the carriage stopped before the door of my old inn, the Ox, at
Einsiedeln. It was near ten, and we ordered a cup of tea and beds
immediately.
The next morning we visited the church and the convent. The first
presented a tame picture, compared to that I had witnessed in the former
visit, for there was not a pilgrim present; the past year it had been
crowded. There were, however, a few groups of the villagers kneeling at
the shrine, or at the different altars, to aid the picturesque. We
ascended into the upper part of the edifice, and walked in those narrow
galleries through which I had formerly seen the Benedictines stalking in
stealthy watchfulness, looking down at the devotees beneath. I was
admitted to the cloisters, cells, library, &c., but my companions were
excluded as a matter of course. It is merely a spacious German convent,
very neat, and a little _barnish_. A recent publication caused me to
smile involuntarily once or twice, as the good father turned over the
curiosities of the library, and expatiated on the history and objects of
his community; but the book in question had evidently not yet, if indeed
it will ever reach this remote spot.
We had a little difficulty here in getting along with the French; and
our German (in which, by the way, some of the party are rather expert)
had been acquired in Saxony, and was taken for base coin here. The
innkeeper was an attentive host, and wished to express every thing that
was kind and attentive; all of which he succeeded in doing wonderfully
well, by a constant use of the two words, "_par exemple_." As a specimen
of his skill, I asked him if an extra horse could be had at Einsiedeln,
and his answer was, "_Par exemple, monsieur; par exemple, oui;
c'est-à-dire, par exemple_." So we took the other horse, _par exemple_,
and proceeded.
Our road carried us directly across the meadows that had been formed in
the lake of Lowertz, by the fall of the Rossberg. When on them, they
appeared even larger than when seen from the adjacent mountain; they are
quite uneven, and bear a coarse wiry grass, though there are a few rocks
on their surface. Crossing the ruin of Goldau, we passed on a trot from
the desolation around it, into the beautiful scenery of Arth. Here we
dined and witnessed another monastic flirtation.
After dinner we drove along the shores of the lake of Zug, winding
directly round the base of the cone of the Righi, or immediately beneath
the point where the traveller gets the sublime view of which you have
already heard. This was one of the pleasantest bits of road we had then
seen in Switzerland. The water was quite near us on the right, and we
were absolutely shut in on the left by the precipitous mountain, until
having doubled it, we came out upon an arm of the lake of Lucerne, at
Küsnacht, to which place we descended by the _chemin creux_. Night
overtook us again while crossing the beautiful ridge of land that
separates the bay of Küsnacht from the foot of the lake, but the road
being excellent, we trotted on in security until we alighted, at nine
o'clock, in the city of Lucerne.
The weather appearing unusually fine the next day, François was ordered
round to Berne with the carriage and luggage, and we engaged a guide
and took a boat for Alpnach. At eleven we embarked and pulled up under
lovely verdant banks, which are occupied by villas, till we reached the
arm of the lake that stretches towards the south-west. Here a fair
breeze struck us, and making sail, away we went, skimming before it, at
the rate of eight miles an hour. Once or twice the wind came with a
power that showed how necessary it is to be cautious on a water that is
bounded by so many precipitous rocks. We passed the solitary tower of
Stanztad on the wing, and reached Alpnach in less than two hours after
embarking.
Here we took two of the little vehicles of the country and went on. The
road carried us through Sarnen, where my companions, who had never
before visited the Unterwaldens, stopped to see the lions. I shall not
go over these details with you again, but press on towards our
resting-place for the night. On reaching the foot of the rocks which
form the natural dam that upholds the lake of Lungern, P---- and myself
alighted and walked ahead. The ascent being short, we made so much
progress as to reach the upper end of the little sheet, a distance of
near a league, before we were overtaken by the others; and when we did
meet, it was amid general exclamations of delight at the ravishing
beauties of the place. I cannot recall sensations of purer pleasure
produced by any scenery, than those I felt myself on this occasion, and
in which all around me appeared to participate.
Our pleasures, tastes, and even our judgments are so much affected by
the circumstances under which they are called into action, that one has
need of diffidence on the subject of their infallibility, if it be only
to protect himself from the imputation of inconsistency. I was pleased
with the Lake of Lungern in 1828, but the term is not strong enough for
the gratification it gave me on this return to it. Perhaps the day, the
peculiar play of light and shade, a buoyancy of spirits, or some
auxiliary causes, may have contributed to produce this state of mind;
or it is possible that the views were really improved by changing the
direction of the route; as all connoisseurs in scenery know that the
Hudson is much finer when descending than when ascending its stream; but
let the cause be what it might, had I then been asked what particular
spot in Europe had given me most delight, by the perfection of its
natural beauties, taken in connexion with its artificial accessories, I
should have answered that it was the shores of the lake of Lungern. Nor,
as I have told you, was I alone in this feeling, for one and all, big
and little,--in short, the whole party joined in pronouncing the entire
landscape absolutely exquisite. Any insignificant change, a trifle more
or less of humidity in the atmosphere, the absence or the intervention
of a few clouds, a different hour or a different frame of mind, may have
diminished our pleasure, for these are enjoyments which, like the
flavour of delicate wines, or the melody of sweet music, are deranged by
the condition of the nerves, or a want of harmony, in the chords.
After this explanation you will feel how difficult it will be to
describe the causes of our delight. The leading features of the
landscape, however, were a road that ran along the shore beneath a
forest, within ten feet of the water, winding, losing itself, and
re-appearing with the sinuosities of the bank; water, limpid as air and
blue as the void of the heavens, unruffled and even holy in its aspect,
as if it reflected the pure space above; a mountain-side, on the
opposite shore, that was high enough to require study to draw objects
from its bosom, on the distant heights, and yet near enough below, to
seem to be within an arrow's flight; meadows shorn like lawns, scattered
over its broad breast; woods of larches, to cast their gloom athwart the
glades and to deepen the shadows; brown chalets that seemed to rise out
of the sward, at the bidding of the eye; and here and there a cottage
poised on a giddy height, with a chapel or two to throw a religious calm
over all! There was nothing ambitious in this view, which was rural in
every feature, but it was the very _bean idéal_ of rustic beauty, and
without a single visible blemish to weaken its effect. It was some such
picture of natural objects as is formed of love by a confiding and
ingenuous youth of fifteen.
We passed the night in the _drum_ of Lungern, and found it raining hard
when we rose the following morning. The water soon ceased to fall in
torrents, however, changing to a drizzle, at which time the valley,
clouded in mists in constant motion, was even more beautiful than ever.
So perfect, were the accessories, so minute was everything rendered by
the mighty scale, so even was the grass and so pure the verdure that
bits of the mountain pasturages, or Alps, coming into view through the
openings in the vapour, appeared like highly-finished Flemish paintings;
and this the more so, because all the grouping of objects, the chalets,
cottages, &c. were exactly those that the artist would seize upon to
embellish his own work. Indeed, we have daily, hourly, occasions to
observe how largely the dealers in the picturesque have drawn upon the
resources of this extraordinary country, whether the pallet, or poetry
in some other form, has been the medium of conveying pleasure.
The _garçon_ of the inn pointed to some mist that was rolling along a
particular mountain, and said it was the infallible barometer of
Lungern. We might be certain of getting fair weather within an hour. A
real barometer corroborated the testimony of the mist, but the change
was slower than had been predicted; and we began to tire of so glorious
a picture, under an impatience to proceed, for one does not like to
swallow pleasure even, perforce.
At ten we were able to quit the inn, one half of the party taking the
bridle-path, attended by two horse-keepers, while the rest of us,
choosing to use our own limbs, were led by the guide up the mountains by
a shorter cut, on foot. The view from the Brunig was not as fine as I
had round it in 1828, perhaps because I was then taken completely by
surprise, and perhaps because ignorance of the distant objects had then
thrown the charm of mystery over its back-ground. We now saw the scene
in detail, too, while mounting; for, though it is better to ascend than
descend, the finest effects are produced by obtaining the whole at once.
We joined the equestrians on the summit, where the horses were
discharged, and we proceeded the remainder of the distance on foot. We
soon met the Bear of Berne, and entered the great canton. The view of
the valley of Meyringen, and of the cataracts, greeted us like an old
friend; and the walk, by a path which wound its way through the bushes,
and impended over this beautiful panorama, was of course delightful. At
length we caught a glimpse of the lake of Brientz, and hurrying on,
reached the village before two.
Here we ordered a _goûter_, and, while taking it, the first English
party we had yet seen, entered the inn, as we were all seated at the
same table. The company consisted of this English party, ourselves, and
a solitary Frenchman, who eyed us keenly, but said nothing. It soon
appeared that some great political crisis was at hand, for the
Englishman began to cry out against the growing democracy of the
cantons. I did not understand all his allusions, nor do I think he had
very clear notions about them himself, for he wound up one of his
denunciatory appeals, by the old cant, of "instead of one tyrant they
will now have many;" which is a sort of reasoning that is not
particularly applicable to the overturning of aristocracy anywhere. It
is really melancholy to perceive how few men are capable of reasoning or
feeling on political subjects, in any other way than that which is
thought most to subserve their own particular interests and selfishness.
Did we not know that the real object of human institutions is to
restrain human tendencies, one would be almost disposed to give up the
point in despair; for I do affirm, that in all my associations in
different countries, I do not recollect more than a dozen men who have
appeared to me to entertain right notions on this subject, or who have
seemed capable of appreciating the importance of any changes that were
not likely materially to affect their own pockets.
The Frenchman heard us speaking in his own language, which we did with a
view of drawing John Bull out, and he asked a passage in the boat I had
ordered, as far as Interlachen. Conditioning that he should make the
_détour_ to the Giesbach, his application was admitted, and we proceeded
forthwith. This was the fourth time I had crossed the lake of Brientz,
but the first in which I visited the justly celebrated falls, towards
which we now steered on quitting the shore.
Our companion proved to be a merry fellow, and well disposed to work his
passage by his wit. I have long been cured of the notion "that the name
of an American is a passport all over Europe," and have learned to
understand in its place, that, on the contrary, it is thought to be
_prima facie_ evidence of vulgarity, ignorance, and conceit; nor do I
think that the French, as a nation, have any particular regard for us;
but knowing the inherent dislike of a Frenchman for an Englishman, and
that the new-fangled fraternity, arising out of the trading-principle
government, only renders, to a disinterested looker on, the old
antipathies more apparent, I made an occasion, indirectly, to let our
new associate understand that we came from the other side of the
Atlantic. This produced an instantaneous change in his manner, and it
was now that he began to favour us with specimens of his humour.
Notwithstanding all this facetiousness, I soon felt suspicion that the
man was an _employé_ of the Carlists, and that his business in
Switzerland was connected with political plots. He betrayed himself, at
the very moment when he was most anxious to make us think him a mere
amateur of scenery: I cannot tell you how, but still so clearly, as to
strike all of us, precisely in the same way.
The Giesbach is a succession of falls, whose water comes from a
glacier, and which are produced by the sinuosities of the leaps and
inclined planes of a mountain side, aided by rocks and precipices. It is
very beautiful, and may well rank as the third or fourth cascade of
Switzerland, for variety, volume of water, and general effect. A family
has established itself among the rocks, to pick up a penny by making
boxes of larch, and singing the different _ranz des raches_. Your
mountain music does not do so well, when it has an air so seriously
premeditated, and one soon gels to be a little _blasé_ on the subject of
entertainments of this sort, which can only succeed once, and then with
the novice. Alas! I have actually stood before the entrance of the
cathedral at Rouen, and the strongest feeling of the moment was that of
surprise at the manner in which my nerves had thrilled, when it was
first seen. I do not believe that childhood, with its unsophistication
and freshness, affords the greatest pleasures, for every hour tells me
how much reason and cultivation enhance our enjoyments; but there are
certainly gratifications that can be felt but once; and if an opera of
Rossini or Meyerbeer grows on us at each representation, or a fine poem
improves on acquaintance, the singing of your Swiss nightingales is
sweeter in its first notes than in its second.
After spending an hour at the Giesbach, we rowed along the eastern, or
rather the southern, shore of the lake to Interlachen. The sight of the
blue Aar revived old recollections, and we landed on its banks with
infinite pleasure. Here a few civil speeches passed between the merry
Frenchman and myself, when we separated, he disappearing altogether, and
we taking the way to the great lodging-house, which, like most of the
other places of resort in Switzerland, was then nearly empty. The
Grand-duchess Anna, however, had come down from Ulfnau, her residence on
the Aar, for a tour in the Oberland, and was among the guests. We got a
glimpse of her coming in from a drive, and she appeared to resemble her
brother the Duke, more than her brother the King.
In the morning we drove up to Lauterbrunnen, and I am compelled to say
that so completely fickle had we become, that I believe all who had seen
this valley before, pronounced it less beautiful than that of Lungern.
By the way of proving to you how capricious a thing is taste, I liked
the Staubbach better than in the former visit. We did not attempt the
mountains this time, but drove round in our _chars_ to Grindewald, where
we dined and slept. Either a new approach, or improved tastes, or some
other cause, wrought another change here; for we now preferred
Grindewald to Lauterbrunnen, as a valley. The vulgar astonishment was
gone, and our eyes sought details with critical nicety. We went to the
lower glacier, whose form had not materially changed in four years, and
we had fine views of both of them from the windows of the inn. There was
a young moon, and I walked out to watch the effect on the high glaciers,
which were rendered even more than usually unearthly in appearance,
under its clear bland light. These changes of circumstances strangely
increase the glories of the mountains!
We left Grindewald quite early next morning, and proceeded towards
Neuhaus. The road led us through a scene of desolation that had been
caused by a rising of the waters in 1830, and we examined the
devastation with the more interest, as some of our acquaintances had
nearly perished in the torrent.
The family in question were residing temporarily at Interlachen, when
two of the ladies with a child, attended by a black servant, drove up
the gorge of Lauterbrunnen for an airing. They were overtaken by a
tempest of rain, and by the torrent, which rose so rapidly as to cut off
all retreat, except by ascending the precipice, which to the eye is
nearly perpendicular. There is, however, a hamlet on one of the terraces
of the mountain, and thither the servant was despatched for succour. The
honest peasants at first believed he was a demon, on account of his
colour, and it was not without difficulty they were persuaded to follow
him. The ladies eventually escaped up the rocks; but our coachman, who
had acted as the coachman on that occasion, assured us it was with the
utmost difficulty he saved his horse.
This accident, which was neither a _sac d'eau_ nor an avalanche, gives
one a good idea of the sudden dangers to which the traveller is liable,
in the midst of a nature so stupendous. A large part of the beautiful
meadows of Interlachen was laid desolate, and the calamity was so sudden
that it overtook two young and delicate females in their morning drive!
We drove directly to the little port at Neuhaus, and took a boat for
Thoun, pulling cut into the lake, with a fresh breeze directly in our
teeth. The picturesque little chateau of Spietz stood on its green
promontory, and all the various objects that we had formerly gazed at
with so much pleasure, were there, fresh, peculiar, and attractive as
ever. At length, after a heavy pull, we were swept within the current of
the Aar, which soon bore us to the landing.
At Thoun we breakfasted, and, taking a return carriage, trotted up to
Berne, by the valley of which you have already heard so much. François
was in waiting for us, and we got comfortable rooms at the Crown.
Our tastes are certainly altering, whether there be any improvement or
not. We are beginning to feel it is vulgar to be astonished, and even in
scenery, I think we rather look for the features that fill up the
keeping, and make the finish, than those which excite wonder. We have
seen too much to be any longer taken in, by your natural clap-traps; a
step in advance, that I attribute to a long residence in Italy, a
country in which the sublime is so exquisitely blended with the soft, as
to create a taste which tells us they ought to be inseparable.
In this little excursion to the Oberland, while many, perhaps most, of
our old impressions are confirmed, its relative beauties have not
appeared to be entitled to as high praises as we should have given
them, had they not been seen a second time. We had fine weather, were
all in good spirits and happy, and the impression being so general, I am
inclined to think, it is no more than the natural effect which is
produced by more experience and greater knowledge. I now speak of the
valleys, however, for the high Alps are as superior to the caprices of
taste, as their magnificent dimensions and faultless outline are beyond
change.