local names of, 72
“Pré des papillons,” meadow, 169, 170, 239
Prime, Miss, her dismal experiences as governess, 221 _seq._
Procter, Adelaide, 198
Prudishness of countryfolk, 236
Quadera, meadow, 62, 74
Quadertatsch, an amiable beast, subject to accidents, 182, 184
Quinet, Edgar, 202
R., Mr., a young brigand, studies the English language, 12 _seq._;
starts a love affair. 42 _seq._;
progress of English studies, 165;
progress of love affair, 130, 190, 241
Radona-tobel, torrent, 149
Raggal, village, 7, 100, 155;
Eldorado of idiots, 37;
derivation of name, 63
Ramsay, Dean, 221
Rellsthal, valley, 23, 159
Rhætian inhabitants of province, 62, 151
Rhætikon, mountain-group 7, 21, 99, 182
Rhæto-Roman names, 6, 62-63, 72, 111, 152, 153, 179
Rhine, upper, 6, 53;
regulating its river-bed, 54, 152
Riedbach, streamlet, 44, 235;
its source, 45, 234
Roedeer, 156, 187
Röns, village, 169
Romans, occupy province, 60, 62, 151;
cultivate vine, 198
Romansh names. _See_ Rhæto-Roman.
Rosenegg, castle-ruin, 72, 179-182
Rothe Wand, mountain, 137, 143, 148, 150
Rothenbrunnen, mineral spring, 136
“Ruisseau des écrevisses,” 44, 45, 135.
_See_ Riedbach.
“Runde Scheible,” how they came to disappear from the landscape, 48
Rungalin village, 26, 184, 188;
derivation of name, 63
Säntis mountain, tragedy on, 29
Sagliain, glacier, 150
St. Anne, church, 37, 55, 172
St. Anton, village, 180
St. Gallenkirch, village, 9
St. Gebhard, chapel, 200
St. Gerold, hamlet and convent, 91-93;
its vineyard, 197
St. Martin, church, 186;
its Gothic ornaments, 214
St. Nicholas, church, 48, 190
St. Peter, convent, 152
Salamander, alpine, 182;
maculated, 184
Sarotla alp, 23, 24
Satteins, village, 95
Scesaplana, mountain, 24, 29, 62, 74, 244;
its summit, 158
Scesa-tobel, torrent, 59, 127, 148, 181
Schattenburg, castle-ruin, 72
Schlee, Johann Georg, his _Relation of Rhetia_, 76;
on wild beasts, 187, 188
Schlehen. _See_ Schlee.
Schlins, village, 169;
its pleasanttavern, 172, 235
Schlosstobel, torrent, 63, 72
Schmalz, a desirable condiment, 11, 114
Schmatzen, a noise forbidden at dinner, 92-93
Schnapps (spirits), varieties of, 33
Schnepfenstrich, tract of forest, 60
Schreiber, E., _quoted_, 184
Schubert, Fräulein, gets the sack, 215
Shelter-huts in mountains, degenerate into hotels, 24
Silberthal, valley, 34
Silvretta, glacier, 150
Sippins, dog, specializes in fleas and beer, 232
Sister of author, leads him astray, 63, 94, 237
Skittles played with skulls, 214
Sliding on fir-branches, its risks, 5-6
Solidarity, a catchword, 175-176;
its grotesque results, 231
Som, schoolmaster, 215, 216
Sonnenberg, castle-ruin, 72, 186
Sonntag, village, 136
Sporting pictures, their uses, 4, 176
Spuller lake, 139, 144
Squirrel, with malformed teeth, 10;
death of a tame, 28;
declining in numbers, 238
Statuette of bronze, a remarkable, 152
Stelvio pass, crossing on high bicycles, 159
Steub, Ludwig, 101; _quoted_, 153
Storrbach, torrent, 72
Strassburger (now Mannheimer) hut, 24, 157, 158
Strassenhaus, railway-station, 127
Sulzfluh, mountain, 29
Sulz-Röthis, village, 197
Suser, consequences of drinking, 235
Switzerland, projected annexation to, 33
Tabalada, stream, 62, 224
Tattermandl, derivation of name, 184.
_See_ Quadertatsch.
Tavern, our residence, its food and comforts, 3, 4, 11, 12, 107, 108;
its proprietors, 31-34;
prices at, 112
Theocritus, seldom caught napping, 85
Thirty Years’ War, 55, 77
Thüringen, village, 134, 184;
derivation of name, 169
Thüringerberg, village, 94, 95, 190
Tiberius, Emperor, 62, 152
Tiefis, village, 33, 40, 49, 71, 103;
visit to its tavern, 42;
another visit, 130;
another, 190;
another, 241;
destroyed by fire, 130
Tilisuna lake, 63
Tourists, their climbing feats, 23-24, 157, 159
Townbred persons, often incomplete, 83-86
Trout, how to catch, 224
Tschallenga, mountain, 55, 83
Tschudi, F. von, 188
Tschusi, R. von, 129
Tuckwell, Rev. W., 85
Valbona, mountain, 62
Val d’Aosta, 39
Valduna, lunatic asylum, 38;
interviews at, 190-196
Valentschina (Walserthal), 76
Vallis Drusiana (Walgau), derivation of name, 62, 152, 153
Valtellina, 39
Valuta, its workings, 113
Vandans, village, 159
Verdigris, dining off, 47
Vermunt, Maz, 63
Village, statistics of our, 13
Vineyards, no longer planted, 197
Violets, yellow, 143;
red and white, 163
Vonbun, Dr. J. F., _quoted_, 139.
Vorarlberg, province, 6, 53, 153;
projected annexation to Switzerland, 33;
sends students to Wittenberg, 169
Vorarlbergische Chronik, 132;
_quoted_, 32
Walchner, H., 129
Walgau, central valley of province. _See_ Vallis Drusiana.
Walserthal, valley, 79, 91, 136, 244;
famous for idiots, 37;
when colonized, 53;
dialect and costume, _ibid._
Wasserkälb (_Gordius_), 232
Watts, Dr. Isaac, _quoted_, 12
Weisses Kreuz, hotel, its manager worth making love to, 207
Widderstein, mountain, 245
Wildkirchle, rock-needle, 137, 138
Wine, qualities and prohibitive price of, 43, 109;
decline in local production of, 196;
wine-bibbing in olden days, 198
Wolf, the last, 187;
why extinct in Alps, 188;
wolf-stories, 214
Wolfart, Lord of Blumenegg, 80
Wood of the ----, a once awesome forest, 170, 238
Woodcock shooting, 60
Woodlands, administration of, 135, 136
Zalim alp, 24, 157
Zimba, mountain, 41, 138;
first ascent of, 21-22;
its victims, 23
Zimmerman, Dr., responsible for cataclysm, 7
“Zoologist,” referred to, 10
Zürich, derivation of name, 169
Zürs, alp, 33
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Called “Latschen” hereabouts, because they are “gelegt”--pressed
earthwards by winter snows; or else by the old Rhætic name of “Zuondra”
which we sometimes twist into “Sonderinen.” They are more generally
known as “Legföhren.” These groves of _Pinus pumilio_ deserve careful
protection; they shield the meadows below from the devastating effects
of cloudbursts in the upper regions, from stone-cataracts and--by
welding all successive snowfalls into that first one which lies
anchored among their twisted limbs--from avalanches.
[2] He has surprised me, of late, by a new acquirement: a considerable
familiarity with Polish history. They only began to teach it quite
recently, he says; and thereby hangs a tale. It would seem that an
ukase has gone forth from educational headquarters in Paris, to the
effect that the youth of the entire country is to be brought up in the
belief that the Poles, the old friends of France, are a prodigy among
nations; every phase of their contemptible politics and degrading
parliamentary wrangles during the last few centuries has to be regarded
as of epoch-making importance--as opposed to the futile history of
their enemies on the East. Nothing, in short, is good enough for
Poland; nothing bad enough for Russia. And all because a misguided pack
of French capitalists, after those Toulon celebrations, lent their
millions to Russia, expecting to receive the usual three hundred per
cent profit which is not yet forthcoming and, let us hope, never will
be. An interesting example by what means “patriotic” convictions are
nurtured, and for what ends.
[3] We walked up to the _Bährenloch_ last week. The path is neglected
and quite overgrown in places; the cave seems to have lost its
popularity since the war. I was glad to see that old yew tree--rather a
rare growth hereabouts--still clinging to the rock near its entrance.
We went in with candles and saw one bat fluttering about; I felt no
great desire to take it home with me. The pets one kept! Guinea-pigs,
first of all, _Meerschweinle_ which, in a burst of infantile humor,
I used to call _Immermehrschweinle_, alluding to their miraculous
fecundity. Not a bad joke, now I think of it. And the last was a
black squirrel, that ended in pitiable fashion. I took it out of its
nest and brought it up on the bottle, like a baby. It grew to be my
companion all the time, free to come and free to go, and there was
nothing I could not do with it; we were really devoted to each other.
Afterwards, having to leave the country, I gave it in charge of a
certain female relative who also loved it. The cage was placed on the
top of one of those enormous stoves of green majolica tiles. Winter
came, and the maid lighted the fire, forgetful of the cage above. Then
she remembered, and rushed back into the room. Too late! The poor beast
had meanwhile been slowly, quite slowly, roasted to death. No more pets
after that.
[4] Here is a local and contemporary appreciation of this glory of art.
“Mit höchstem Rechte verdient hier die aus dieser Landschaft gebürtige
Angelika Kaufmann eine Stelle. Dieses mit den seltensten Vorzügen
des Genies ausgestattete Frauenzimmer macht wirklich in der Malerei
Epoche, und lebt diesmal als eine der berühmtesten Künstlerinnen des
sich neigenden achtzehnten Jahrhunderts, in glücklicher Ehe in Rom, zur
Ehre ihres Vaterlandes, das auf sie stolz seyn darf.” (Vorarlbergische
Chronik. Bregenz, Brentano, 1793, p. 81.)
[5] Professor Joseph Bergmann, in an extremely learned booklet
(“Untersuchungen über die freyen Walliser oder Walser.” Vienna, Carl
Gerold, 1844) has proved that our Walsers, an industrious people of
Burgundian stock, emigrated hitherward from the Swiss Canton Wallis
(Valais) at the end of the thirteenth century and settled in this
wild valley and its surroundings. It is they who brought it to its
present high state of prosperity. They have kept their Swiss accent
to this day, with certain idioms of their own--not every Englishman
can translate “Wie tüschalat’s Bobbe so schö im Pfülfli!”--and their
costume is more strange than beautiful. In olden days nearly every
settlement here (Bludenz, Feldkirch, Nenzing, etc.) had its own
costume. There are only three left now; that of the Walserthal, the
Montavon, and Bregenzerwald.
[6] I cannot suggest what Tabalada means unless it be what I think it
is--a comical perversion of its Romansh name Aulat=_aqua lauta_, a name
appropriate up to a few years ago, for it was the most crystalline
water I ever saw, till we forced some of the discolored Ill to flow
into it, for factory purposes at Gais. And the real name of the
“Feldbächle” is Montiola-bach, which is also Latin; all that hilly
region where it rises used to be called Montiola; indeed, a great
number of the place-names I shall be mentioning have origin in Romansh,
which is such a detestable word that I mean to call it Rhæto-Roman in
future.
Our old Rhætian inhabitants, now held to be Celts and not Etruscans as
certain scholars used to maintain, were defeated by Drusus and Tiberius
in 15 B. C. in this very plain--so tradition says; certainly the Walgau
is marked as “Vallis Drusiana” in old charts and chronicles, though
another derivation is yet more plausible (see p. 152). The province
was thereafter romanized, and traces of this Latin domination can be
found, for instance, in those single personal names like Florentinus,
Seganus, Ursicinus, which persisted hereabouts into the twelfth
century; the present double family ones, of Alemannic origin, became
fixed by the end of the thirteenth. As to our Rhæto-Roman names of
localities--some of them speak for themselves; there is no difficulty
about Scesaplana, Alpila, Fontanella, Quadera and so on, though it is
rather puzzling to find a high rocky summit called “Valbona.” Lutz is
_lutum_, the turbid stream; Ludesch (Lodasco) stands on its banks.
Bludesch was called Pludassis (_paludes_) by reason of its swampy
situation. The Fön, the hot wind, is _Favonius_. Lagutz=_lacus_, a
lake; which it doubtless used to be. Raggal (Roncal in chronicles),
Rungalin and other such sites=_runcare_. Gamperdona=_campus rotundus_,
which you will find most apposite, if you go there. Other place-names
are not so easy to disentangle. Barplons=_Pratum planum_. Vanova=_Via
nova_. The “Schlosstobel” at the foot of Blumenegg castle used to be
called “Falster”=_Vallis torrens_. Trasseraus=_tres suors_ (_sorores_).
Frastafeders is simply “old Frastanz.” One thing strikes me as
suggestive. That Rhætians or Romans should give names to conspicuous
peaks--Vallula, Zimba, Furka, Saladina: there are dozens of them--is
intelligible enough. You can see a mountain from below, without
climbing up. You cannot see a lake from below. Yet the names of some of
our secluded Alpine waters, like Tilisuna and Formarin, whatever their
origin, are not Alemannic and are therefore pre-Alemannic; which proves
that these remote and inhospitable spots were already then frequented
for the sake, no doubt, of their brief summer pasturage. Whence I
deduce that the population of those days must have been denser than one
generally imagines. Formarin, for the rest, is pronounced “Famurin”
which may be “Val Murin,” from the quantities of marmots (_mure
montana_, contracted into our “Burmentli”) up there. If this conjecture
sounds far-fetched, let me hasten to say that it is not mine, but that
of Max Vermunt (“Stille Winkel in Vorarlberg”).
[7] We had our ups and downs in later times. One of the “ups” was
when the factory was partially burnt some thirty years ago, and the
insurance compensation enabled us not only to rebuild it on a far finer
scale, but to purchase the neighboring establishment of Gais which
happened to be in the market.
[8] The Fön, if it then existed, may be responsible for the destruction
by fire of so many of the prehistoric Swiss lake settlements.
[9] “Hystorische Relation,” etc., of Rhetia by Johann Georg Schlehen of
Rottweyl. There is a copy in the British Museum. His name is Schlee;
the Schlehen on the title-page is the accusative.
[10] Justice was dispensed in sight of the gallows, the _signa meri
imperi_, near the Hanging Stone (a conspicuous cliff on the Bludenz
road)--dispensed upon a certain fateful meadow, the path to which used
to be known as the “gallows’ way,” and the meadow itself “Gerichti”
(Court of Justice). These names seem to have faded out of the popular
memory. I like to think that the proceedings took place near that
wide-branching oak, by far the finest in the district, at whose foot
I used to recline in olden days. It stands between the Hanging Stone
and our present railway station, opposite that detestable new cement
factory, on the south side of the line. There is certainly a path
leading to it from the cliff, and perhaps some dim tradition attached
to this oak has saved it from the ax through all these years.
[11] I have just discovered, rummaging among some old papers, a musical
composition by my mother entitled “Blumenegg.” It is dated October,
1861; three years before her marriage.
[12] The former of these speaks of Milton’s “habitually loose botany.”
No great blemish; given the themes he loved, it might be argued that
much of Milton’s peculiar aroma would evaporate, had he been meticulous
in such details like Tennyson or de Tabley. Theocritus is hard to catch
napping; but Ovid, for example, tells us that _buxus_ grows on Mount
Hymettus. There is no box on Hymettus, though it prospers in certain
gardens of Athens (e. g., the Crown Prince’s); Ovid was thinking of the
dwarf holly. It is the worst of writing poetry, that you are apt to be
torn between respect for truth and the exigencies of scansion. What
would the painfully correct Lucretius have done with this _buxus_?
[13] Professor K. W. von Dalla Torre mentions him in his “Zoologische
Literatur von Tirol und Vorarlberg bis inclusive 1885.” He enumerates
eighteen different monographs by him, dealing with the fauna alone of
this province. (His botanical works are more important.) He also notes
that Bruhin is “at present (1886) in Columbus, Ohio, U. S. A.” It is a
far cry to Ohio! If he stayed there any length of time, he is sure to
have made a name for himself. He always signs himself “Th. A.”; Dalla
Torre calls him “Theodor,” which is probably correct; in the list of
subscribers to Heer’s “Urwelt der Schweiz” (1865, p. xviii) he figures
as “Thomas.”
[14] We generally went to Lech in threes. Now the inn at Lech was not a
bad one; so good indeed, that its praises have been sung by no less an
authority than the writer Ludwig Steub, who was also a frequent visitor
at our house in times gone by. But our own cuisine and cellar were
still better, and accordingly we were wont to take up by cart a vast
store of provisions, only sleeping at the inn and occasionally ordering
some little dish or a quarter of wine for the sake of appearances. To
recoup himself, the innkeeper used to charge us so preposterously for
these trifles that on one occasion we had a solemn row with him and
refused to pay. He yielded. Not long afterwards there was printed in
some local paper a spirited poem in the mock-heroic style, with the
refrain:
Die Heiligen Drei Könige, mit irrendem Stern--
Die essen und trinken, und zahlen nicht gern!
I wish I had kept a copy.
[15] I knew an old hunter of Ludesch who claimed to have killed
seventy-five pine martens near that village. I have seen only two in my
whole life hereabouts; and not a single one within the last thirty-five
years, despite never-ending rambles among these forests. But we had a
pair of beech martens under the eaves of our house, which they reached
by climbing along the branches of a mighty walnut tree that leaned over
the roof. In the daytime they were never to be found. By night they
made such a din of scuttling and scampering that visitors, sleeping in
rooms below, had to be warned of their existence.
[16] This particular specimen is commemorated by Rudolph von Tschusi
(son of the well-known ornithologist) in “Ornithologisches Jahrbuch,”
IX, 1898, Heft 2. According to H. Walchner’s “Ornithologie des
Bodenseebeckens” (1835) the ibis is of the “greatest rarity” on
this sheet of water, only a single instance of its occurrence being
then known, which is precisely why I bought this one. Apropos of
woodpeckers--Bruhin, in his “Wirbelthiere Vorarlbergs” (1868) also says
that he saw the lesser spotted kind only once; the bird must therefore
be far from common. And this year, for the first time, I had the
pleasure of spying the three-toed one. We were walking down from Lagutz
to Marul (see p. 155) through that magnificent Alpine forest when we
noticed a pair of them. They kept close together, one following the
other and we following both; so tame were they, that we could approach
within a few yards and see the yellow on the head of the male. I
observed that they had the same habit as the middle-spotted woodpecker,
of investigating carefully not only the trunk but the branches of
trees. While watching them I thought: how wise of you to have kept out
of my way till now!
[17] Bludenz itself was twice destroyed by fire. _See_ “Vorarlbergische
Chronik” (Bregenz, Brentano, 1793, p. 108).
[18] Woodlands have always been cherished here. Wood inspectors were
appointed as early as 1626, possibly earlier; they had to traverse the
forests every spring, summer and autumn, and to report the slightest
damage to the trees. Four years later, an excellent rule was framed
to prevent the ever-increasing damage to forest-growth by herds of
goats: whoso has three cows, may keep no goat whatever; the owner of
two cows may keep one goat; the possession of a single cow entitled
you to three goats and no more. This stamped out the goat mischief.
Such were the Lords of Blumenegg, from whom certain modern governments
might well take a lesson; like sensible tyrants, they not only laid
down wise regulations on this and other matters, but saw to it that
they were carried out (those gallows!). In the inhospitable recesses
of the Walserthal, at five hours’ march from their castle, lying
in a caldron of bleak gray crags--an excellent chamois-ground--is
the iron-spring and bathing establishment of Rothenbrunnen, where
the Alpine rhododendrons droop over your bedroom window; it was the
Blumenegg people who erected the first building here in 1650, with
accommodation for forty patients. Twenty-six years later they founded a
school in the remote hamlet of Sonntag. Their fishery regulations were
on the same enlightened scale. As early as 1690 no fishing of any kind
was permitted during the spawning season (21 September to 30 November);
nets, moreover, were to have meshes wide enough to allow the escape of
every fish less than seven inches in length, which happens to be the
precise limit fixed, at this present moment, by the conservators of
the Exe and other English rivers. For these and other details of the
Blumenegg rule _see_ the exhaustive monograph on this subject by one
of our best local antiquarians, the late Joseph Grabherr, priest of
Satteins (Bregenz, 1907).
[19] During these works at the Spuller lake they unearthed, last year,
the skull and horns of an elk; the relic was unfortunately bought
by a Swiss who carried it off to his own country; it ought to have
gone into the newly founded Bludenz Museum. The Spuller lake is the
locality of a strange devil-legend and also of a ghost-story which
have been preserved by Dr. F. J. Vonbun in his “Sagen Vorarlbergs”
(Innsbruck, 1858). I will transcribe a line or two of the former,
omitting his accents and pronounciation marks, in order to give a
sample of our Alemannic dialect: “Es set ama wienicht-obed amol en ma
zum en andera: ‘los nochber, i wetta mi zitgae, du traust di net, mer
min schmalzkübelzolfa hinet vo Spullers z holla.’ Der nochber set ‘woll
frile, d wett gilt’ und nümt en füfspoeriga hund, stahel, fürste und
schwamm und got Spullers zue. Wia-n er an stofel kunnt, bringt em der
butz vo Spullers de zolfa a guets stuck scho etgega, aber der nochber
set zuenem, los gueta fründ,” etc.
[20] The Alpine rose thrives in the climate of Deeside; it grows taller
and greener than on these hills, and loses none of its fragrance. It
should not be planted in the shade.
[21] At the easterly end of these Elser Schröfen there is a convenient
path down between the rocks; it connects Marul, via the Els and Furkla
alps, with Bludenz. Regarding the cliffs themselves--this decorative
ridge seems to be of recent formation; I imagine it is the result of
a rupture, and that the hill formerly trended in a soft curve towards
the Furkla. When the divulsion took place none can tell; but I think I
know where the lost material is to be found, if anybody cares to pick
it up. This broken mountain was carried down the Galgen-tobel, and now
forms the vast southward-sloping triangle of raised ground which is
crossed by the driving-road from Bludenz to Nüziders. On the spot, the
existence of a deltoid tract here is naturally not apparent. If you
mount to any slight eminence on the other side of the Ill, you cannot
fail to perceive its characteristic shape and to divine its origin; it
is the work of an agency similar to that which produced the northward
sloping delta of the Scesa-tobel immediately opposite. The railway
Bludenz-Nüziders skirts at one point a steep grassy bank recalling that
described on p. 117; I take it to have been carved into this deposit by
the old Ill, in its more vigorous days.
[22] At the spot where, in later years, the Arlberg railway came to
stride over this torrent, a memorial tablet has been erected to him.
I was unaware of its existence and only learned the fact two weeks
ago--from Baedeker.
[23] Douglass (John Sholto). “Die Römer in Vorarlberg.” Thüringen. Im
Selbstverlage des Verfassers. 1870. 4to. Paper cover. Title page, two
pages index of contents. One page with half title, 67 pages of text. At
the end 4 photographic plates, one of them in color.