Our Voiturier and his Horses.--A Swiss Diligence.--Morat.--Inconstancy
of feeling.--Our Route to Vévey.--Lake Leman.--Difficulty in hiring a
House.--"Mon Repos" engaged for a mouth.--Vévey.--Tne great Square--The
Town-house.--Environs of Vévey.--Summer Church and Winter
Church.--Clergy of the Canton.--Population of Vaud.--Elective
qualifications of Vaud.
Dear ----,
Le Petit Savoyard was punctual, and after breakfasting, away we rolled,
along the even and beaten road towards Morat. This man and his team were
epitomes of the _voiturier_ caste and their fixtures. He himself was a
firm, sun-burned, compact little fellow, just suited to ride a wheeler,
while the horses were sinewy, and so lean, that there was no mistaking
their vocation. Every bone in their bodies spoke of the weight of
_miladi_, and her heavy English travelling chariot, and I really thought
they seemed to be glad to get a whole American family in place of an
Englishwoman and her maid. The morning was fine, and our last look at
the Oberland peaks was sunny and pleasant. There they stood ranged
along the horizon, like sentinels (not lighthouses) of the skies,
severe, chiseled, brilliant, and grand.
Another travelling equipage of the gregarious kind, or in which the
carriage as well as the horses was the property of the _voiturier_, and
the passengers mere _pic-nics_, was before us in ascending a long hill,
affording an excellent opportunity to dissect the whole party. As it is
a specimen of the groups one constantly meets on the road, I will give
you some idea of the component parts.
The _voiturier_ was merely a larger brother of _le petit Savoyard_, and
his horses, three in number, were walking bundles of chopped straw. The
carriage was spacious, and I dare say convenient, though anything but
beautiful. On the top there was a rail, within which effects were stowed
beneath an apron, leaving an outline not unlike the ridges of the Alps.
The merry rogues within had chosen to take room to themselves, and not a
package of any sort encumbered their movements. And here I will remark,
that America, free and independent, is the only country in which I have
ever journeyed, where the comfort and convenience in the vehicle is the
first thing considered, that of the baggage the next, and that of the
passengers the last.[32] Fortunately for the horses, there were but four
passengers, though the vehicle could have carried eight. One, by his
little green cap, with a misshapen shade for the eyes; light, shaggy,
uncombed hair; square high shoulders; a coat that appeared to be
half-male half-female; pipe and pouch--was undeniably a German student,
who was travelling south to finish his metaphysics with a few practical
notions of men and things. A second was a Jew, who had trade in every
lineament, and who belonged so much to _the_ nation, that I could not
give him to any other nation in particular. He was older, more wary,
less joyous, and probably much more experienced, than either of his
companions. When they laughed, he only smiled; when they sang, he
hummed; and when they seemed thoughtful, he grew sad. I could make
nothing out of him, except that he ran a thorough bass to the higher
pitches of his companions' humours. The third was Italian "for a ducat."
A thick, bushy, glossy, curling head of hair was covered by a little
scarlet cap, tossed negligently on one side, as if lodged there by
chance; his eye was large, mellow, black as jet, and full of fun and
feeling; his teeth white as ivory; and the sun, the glorious sun, and
the thoughts of Italy, towards which he was travelling, had set all his
animal spirits in motion. I caught a few words in bad French, which
satisfied me that he and the German were jeering each other on their
respective national peculiarities. Such is man; his egotism and vanity
first centre in himself, and he is ready to defend himself against the
reproofs of even his own mother; then his wife, his child, his brother,
his friend is admitted, in succession, within the pale of his self-love,
according to their affinities with the great centre of the system; and
finally he can so far expand his affections as to embrace his country,
when that of another presents its pretensions in hostility. When the
question arises, as between humanity and the beasts of the field, he
gets to be a philanthropist!
[Footnote 32: The Americans are a singularly good-natured people, and
probably submit to more impositions, that are presented as appeals to
the spirit of accommodation, than any other people on earth. The writer
has frequently ridden miles in torture to _accommodate_ a trunk, and the
steam-boats manage matters so to _accommodate everybody_, that everybody
is put to inconvenience. All this is done, with the most indomitable
kindness and good nature, on all sides, the people daily, nay hourly
exhibiting, in all their public relations, the truth of the axiom, "that
what is everybody's business, is nobody's business."]
Morat, with its walls of Jericho, soon received us, and we drove to an
inn, where chopped straw was ordered for the horses, and a more
substantial _goûter_ for ourselves. Leaving the former to discuss their
meal, after finishing our own, we walked ahead, and waited the
appearance of the little Savoyard, on the scene of the great battle
between the Swiss and the Burgundians. The country has undergone vast
changes since the fifteenth century, and cultivation has long since
caused the marsh, in which so many of the latter perished, to disappear,
though it is easy to see where it must have formerly been. I have
nothing new to say concerning Avenche, whose Roman ruins, after Rome
itself, scarce caused us to cast a glance at them, and we drove up to
the door of the _Ours_ at Payerne, without alighting. When we are
children, we fancy that sweets can never cloy, and indignantly repel the
idea that tarts and sugar-plums will become matters of indifference to
us; a little later we swear eternal constancy to a first love, and form
everlasting friendships: as time slips away, we marry three or four
wives, shoot a bosom-friend or two, and forget the looks of those whose
images were to be graven on our hearts for ever. You will wonder at this
digression, which has been excited by the simple fact that I actually
caught myself gaping, when something was said about Queen Bertha and her
saddle. The state of apathy to which one finally arrives is really
frightful!
We left Payerne early, and breakfasted at the "inevitable inn" of
Moudon. Here it was necessary to decide in what direction to steer, for
I had left the charter-party with _le petit Savoyard_, open, on this
essential point. The weather was so fine, the season of the year so
nearly the same, and most of the other circumstances so very much like
those under which we had made the enchanting passage along the head of
the Leman four years before, that we yielded to the desire to renew the
pleasures of such a transit, and turned our faces towards Vévey.
At the point where the roads separate, therefore, we diverged from the
main route, which properly leads to Lausanne, inclining southward. We
soon were rolling along the margin of the little blue lake that lies on
the summit of the hills, so famous for its prawns. We knew that a few
minutes would bring us to the brow of the great declivity, and all eyes
were busy, and all heads eagerly in motion. As for myself, I took my
station on the dickey, determined to let nothing escape me in a scene
that I remembered with so much enduring delight.
Contrary to the standing rule in such cases, the reality surpassed
expectation. Notwithstanding our long sojourn in Italy, and the great
variety and magnificence of the scenery we had beheld, I believe there
was not a feeling of disappointment among us all. There lay the Leman,
broad, blue, and tranquil; with its surface dotted by sails, or shadowed
by grand mountains; its shores varying from the impending precipice, to
the sloping and verdant lawn; the solemn, mysterious, and glen-like
valley of the Rhone; the castles, towns, villages, hamlets, and towers,
with all the smiling acclivities loaded with vines, villas, and
churches; the remoter pastures, out of which the brown chalets rose like
subdued bas-reliefs, and the back-ground of _dents_, peaks, and
glaciers. Taking it altogether, it is one of the most ravishing views of
an earth that is only too lovely for its evil-minded tenants; a world
that bears about it, in every lineament, the impression of its divine
Creator!
One of our friends used to tell an anecdote of the black servant of a
visitor at Niagara, who could express his delight, on seeing the falls,
in no other way than by peals of laughter; and perhaps I ought to
hesitate to confess it, but I actually imitated the Negro, as this
glorious view broke suddenly upon me. Mine, however, was a laugh of
triumph, for I instantly discovered that my feelings were not quite worn
out, and that it was still possible to awaken enthusiasm within me, by
the sight of an admirable nature.
Our first resolution was to pass a month in this beautiful region.
Pointing to a building that stood a thousand feet below us, on a little
grassy knoll that was washed by the lake, and which had the quaint
appearance of a tiny chateau of the middle ages, we claimed it, at once,
as the very spot suited for the temporary residence of your
scenery-hunters. We all agreed that nothing could possibly suit us
better, and we went down the descent, among vineyards and cottages, not
building "castles in the air," but peopling one in a valley. It was
determined to dwell in that house, if it could be had for love or money,
or the thing was at all practicable.
It was still early when we reached the inn in Vévey, and I was scarcely
on the ground, before I commenced the necessary inquiries about the
little chateauish house. As is usual in some parts of Europe, I was
immediately referred to a female commissionnaire, a sort of domestic
broker of all-work. This woman supplies travelling families with linen,
and, at need, with plate; and she could greatly facilitate matters, by
knowing where and to whom to apply for all that was required; an
improvement in the division of labour that may cause you to smile, but
which is extremely useful, and, on the whole, like all division of
labour, economical.
The commissionnaire informed us that there were an unusual number of
furnished houses to be let, in the neighbourhood, the recent political
movements having driven away their ordinary occupants, the English and
Russians. Some of the proprietors, however, might object to the
shortness of the time that we could propose for (a month), as it was
customary to let the residences by the year. There was nothing like
trying, however, and, ordering dinner to be ready against our return, we
took a carriage and drove along the lake-shore as far as Clarens, so
renowned in the pages of Rousseau. I ought, however, to premise that I
would not budge a foot, until the woman assured me, over and over, that
the little antiquated edifice, under the mountain, which had actually
been a sort of chateau, was not at all habitable for a genteel family,
but had degenerated to a mere coarse farm-house, which, in this country,
like "love in a cottage," does better in idea than in the reality. We
gave up our "castle under the hill" with reluctance, and proceeded to
Clarens, where a spacious, unshaded building, without a spark of poetry
about it, was first shown us. This was refused, incontinently. We then
tried one or two more, until the shades of night overtook us. At one
place the proprietor was chasing a cow through an orchard, and, probably
a little heated with his exercise, he rudely repelled the application of
the commissionnaire, by telling her, when he understood the house was
wanted for only a month, that he did not keep a _maison garnie_. I could
not affirm to the contrary, and we returned to the inn discomfited, for
the night.
Early next morning the search was renewed with zeal. We climbed the
mountain-side, in the rear of the town, among vines, orchards, hamlets,
terraces castles, and villas, to see one of the latter, which was
refused on account of its remoteness from the lake. We then went to see
a spot that was the very _beau idéal_ of an abode for people like
ourselves, who were out in quest of the picturesque. It is called the
Chateau of Piel, a small hamlet, immediately on the shore of the lake,
and quite near Vévey, while it is perfectly retired. The house is
spacious, reasonably comfortable, and had some fine old towers built
into the modern parts, a detached ruin, and a long narrow terrace, under
the windows, that overhung the blue Leman, and which faced the glorious
rocks of Savoy. Our application for their residence was also refused, on
account of the shortness of the time we intended to remain.[33]
[Footnote 33: It is not easy for the writer to speak of many personal
incidents, lest the motive might be mistaken, in a country where there
are so many always disposed to attach a base one if they can; but, it is
so creditable to the advanced state of European civilization and
intelligence, that, at any hazard, he will here say, that even his small
pretensions to literary reputation frequently were of great service to
him, and, in no instance, even in those countries whose prejudices be
had openly opposed, had he any reason to believe it was of any personal
disadvantage. This feeling prevailed at the English custom-houses, at
the bureaux all over the Continent, and frequently even at the inns. In
one instance, in Italy, an apartment that had been denied, was
subsequently offered to him on his own terms, on this account; and, on
the present occasion, the proprietor of the Chateau de Piel, who resided
at Geneva, sent a handsome expression of his regret that his agent
should have thought it necessary to deny the application of a gentleman
of his pursuits. Even the cow-chaser paid a similar homage to letters.
In short, let the truth be said, the only country in which the writer
has found his pursuits a disadvantage, _is his own_.]
We had in reserve, all this time, two or three regular _maisons
meublées_ in the town itself, and finally took refuge in one called
"Mon repos," which stands quite near the lake, and in a retired corner
of the place. A cook was engaged forthwith, and in less than twenty-four
hours after entering Vévey, we had set up our household gods, and were
to be reckoned among them who boiled our pot in the commune. This was
not quite as prompt as the proceedings had been at Spa; but here we had
been bothered by the picturesque, while at Spa we consulted nothing but
comfort. Our house was sufficiently large, perfectly clean, and, though
without carpets or mats, things but little used in Switzerland, quite as
comfortable as was necessary for a travelling bivouac. The price was
sixty dollars a month, including plate and linen. Of course it might
have been got at a much lower rate, had we taken it by the year.
One of the first measures, after getting possession of Mon Repos, was to
secure a boat. This was soon done, as there are several in constant
attendance, at what is called the port. Harbour, strictly speaking,
Vévey has none, though there is a commencement of a mole, which scarcely
serves to afford shelter to a skiff. The crafts in use on the lake are
large two-masted boats, having decks much broader than their true beam,
and which carry most of their freight above board. The sails are
strictly neither latine nor lug, but sufficiently like the former to be
picturesque, especially in the distance. These vessels are not required
to make good weather, as they invariably run for the land when it blows,
unless the wind happen to be fair, and sometimes even then. Nothing can
be more primitive than the outfit of one of these barks, and yet they
appear to meet the wants of the lake. Luckily Switzerland has no
custom-houses, and the King of Sardinia appears to be wise enough to let
the Savoyards enjoy nearly as much commercial liberty as their
neighbours. Three cantons, Geneva, which embraces its foot; Vaud, which
bounds nearly the whole of the northern shore; Valais, which encircles
the head; together with Savoy, which lies along the cavity of the
crescent, are bounded by the lake. There are also many towns and
villages on the lake, among which Geneva, Lausanne, and Vévey are the
principal.
This place lies immediately at the foot of the Chardonne, a high
retiring section of the mountains called the Jorat, and is completely
sheltered from the north winds. This advantage it possesses in common
with the whole district between Lausanne and Villeneuve, a distance of
some fifteen miles, and, the mountains acting as great natural walls,
the fruits of milder latitudes are successfully cultivated,
notwithstanding the general elevation of the lake above the sea is near
thirteen hundred feet. Although a good deal frequented by strangers,
Vévey is less a place of fashionable resort than Lausanne, and is
consequently much simpler in its habits, and I suppose cheaper, as a
residence. It may have four or five thousand inhabitants, and possessing
one or two considerable squares, it covers rather more ground than
places of that population usually do, in Europe. It has no edifice of
much pretension, and yet it is not badly built.
We passed the first three or four days in looking about us, and, on the
whole, we have been rather pleased with the place. Our house is but a
stone's throw from the water, at a point where there is what in the
Manhattanese dialect would be called a battery.[34] This _battery_ leads
to the mole and the great square. At the first corner of the latter
stands a small semi-castellated edifice, with the colours of the canton
on the window-shutters, which is now in some way occupied for public
purposes, and which formerly was the residence of the _bailli_, or the
local governor that Berne formerly sent to rule them in the name of the
Burgerschaft. The square is quite large, and usually contains certain
piles of boards, &c. that are destined for the foot of the lake, lumber
being a material article in the commerce of the place. On this square,
also, is the ordinary market and several inns. The town-house is an
ancient building in a more crowded quarter, and at the northern gate are
the remains of another structure that has an air of antiquity, which I
believe also belongs to the public. Beyond these and its glorious views,
Vévey, in itself, has but little to attract attention. But its environs
contain its sources of pride. Besides the lake-shore, which varies in
its form and beauties, it is not easy to imagine a more charming
acclivity than that which lies behind the town. The inclination is by no
means as great, just at this spot, at it is both farther east and
farther west, but it admits of cultivation, of sites for hamlets, and is
much broken by inequalities and spacious natural terraces. I cannot
speak with certainty of the extent of this acclivity, but, taking the
eye for a guide, I should think there is quite a league of the inclined
plane in view from the town. It is covered with hamlets, chateaux,
country-houses, churches and cottages, and besides its vines, of which
there are many near the town, it is highly beautiful from the verdure of
its slopes, its orchards, and its groves of nut-trees.
[Footnote 34: The manner in which the English language is becoming
corrupted in America, as well as in England, is a matter of serious
regret. Some accidental circumstance induced the Manhattanese to call a
certain enclosure the Park. This name, probably, at first was
appropriate enough, as there might have been an intention really to form
a park, though the enclosure is now scarcely large enough to be termed a
paddock. This name, however, has extended to the enclosures in other
areas, and we have already, in vulgar parlance, St. John's Park,
Washington Park, and _least_ though not _last_, Duane-street _Park_, an
enclosure of the shape of, and not much larger than, a cocked-hat. The
site of an ancient fort on the water has been converted into a
promenade, and has well enough been called _the Battery_. But other
similar promenades are projected, and the name is extended to them! Thus
in the Manhattanese dialect, any enclosure in a town, _off the water_,
that is a _park_, and any similar enclosure, on _the water_, a
_battery!_ The worthy aldermen may call this English, but it will not be
easy to persuade any but their constituents to believe them.]
Among other objects that crowd this back-ground, is a church which
stands on a sharp acclivity, about a quarter of a mile on the rear of
the town. It is a stone building of some size, and has a convenient
artificial terrace that commands, as a matter of course, a most lovely
view. We attended service in it the first Sunday after our arrival, and
found the rites homely and naked, very much like those of our own
Presbyterians. There was a luxury about this building that you would
hardly expect to meet among a people so simple, which quite puts the
coquetry of our own carpeted, cushioned, closet-like places of worship
to shame. This is the summer church of Vévey, another being used for
winter. This surpasses the refinement of the Roman ladies, who had their
summer and their winter rings, but were satisfied to use the same
temples all the year round. After all there is something reasonable in
this indulgence: one may love to go up to a high place to worship,
whence he can look abroad on the glories of a magnificent nature, which
always disposes the mind to venerate Omnipotence, and, unable to enjoy
the advantage the year round, there is good sense in seizing such
occasions as offer for the indulgence. I have frequently met with
churches in Switzerland perched on the most romantic sites, though this
is the first whose distinctive uses I have ascertained. There is a
monument to the memory of Ludlow, one of Charles' judges, in this
church, and an inscription which attributes to him civic and moral
merits of a high order.
The clergy in this canton, as in most, if not all the others, are
supported by the state. There is religious toleration, much as it
formerly existed in New England, each citizen being master of his
religious professions, but being compelled to support religion itself.
Here, however, the salaries are regulated by a common scale, without
reference to particular congregations or parishes. The pastors at first
receive rather less than three hundred dollars a year. This allowance is
increased about fifty dollars at the end of six years, and by the same
sum at each successive period of six years, until the whole amounts to
two thousand Swiss, or three thousand French francs, which is something
less than six hundred dollars. There is also a house and a garden, and
pensions are bestowed on the widows and children. On the whole, the
state has too much connexion with this great interest, but the system
has the all-important advantage of preventing men from profaning the
altar as a pecuniary speculation. The population of Vaud is about
155,000 souls, and there are one hundred and fifty-eight Protestant
pastors, besides four Catholics, or about one clergyman to each thousand
souls, which is just about the proportion that exists in New York.
In conversing with an intelligent Vaudois on returning from the church,
I found that a great deal of interest is excited in this Canton by the
late conspiracy in Berne. The Vaudois have got that attachment to
liberty which is ever the result of a long political dependence, and
which so naturally disposes the inferior to resist the superior. It is
not pretended, however, that the domination of Berne was particularly
oppressive, though as a matter of course, whenever the interests of Vaud
happened to conflict with those of the great canton, the former had to
succumb. Still the reaction of a political dependency, which lasted more
than two centuries and a half, had brought about, even previously to the
late changes, a much more popular form of government than was usual in
Switzerland, and the people here really manifest some concern on the
subject of this effort of aristocracy. As you may like to compare the
elective qualifications of one of the more liberal cantons of the
confederation with some of our own, I will give you an outline of those
of Vaud, copied, in the substance, from Picot.
The voter must have had a legal domicile in the canton one year, be a
citizen, twenty-five years old, and be of the number of _the
three-fourths of the citizens who pay the highest land-tax_, or have
three sons enrolled and serving in the militia. Domestics, persons
receiving succour from the parishes, bankrupts, outlaws, and convicted
criminals, are perpetually excluded from the elective franchise.
This system, though far better than that of France, which establishes a
certain _amount_ of direct taxation, is radically vicious, as it makes
property, and that of a particular species, the test of power. It is, in
truth, the old English plan a little modified; and the recent revolution
that has lately taken place in England under the name of reform, goes to
prove that it is a system which contains in itself the seeds of vital
changes. As every political question is strictly one of practice,
_changes_ become necessary everywhere with the changes of circumstances,
and these are truly reforms; but when they become so serious as to
overturn principles, they produce the effects of revolutions, though
possibly in a mitigated form. Every system, therefore, should be so
framed as to allow of all the alterations which are necessary to
convenience, with a strict regard to its own permanency as connected
with its own governing principle. In America, in consequence of having
attended to this necessity from the commencement, we have undergone no
revolution in principle in half a century, though constantly admitting
of minor changes, while nearly all Europe has, either in theory or in
practice, or in both, been effectually revolutionized. Nor does the
short period from which our independent existence dates furnish any
argument against us, as it is not so much _time_, as the _changes_ of
which time is the parent, that tries political systems; and America has
undergone the ordinary changes, such as growth, extension of interests,
and the other governing circumstances of society, that properly belong
to two centuries, within the last fifty years. America to-day, in all
but government, is less like the America of 1776, than the France of
to-day is like the France of 1600. While it is the fashion to scout our
example as merely that of an untried experiment, ours is fast getting
to be the oldest political system in Christendom, as applied to one and
the same people. _Nations_ are not easily destroyed,--they exist under a
variety of mutations, and names last longer than things; but I now speak
in reference to distinguishing and prominent facts, without regard to
the various mystifications under which personal interests disguise
themselves.