Part 15

Happening to mention the circumstance of the extraordinary growth of hair, among the women about Payerne, we were informed that it was almost all false. The _paysannes_ have an ancient and invariable custom of mixing great quantities of borrowed tresses with their own, in order to form that singular braid round the head, which had so forcibly attracted our notice. I should imagine the toilette of these rural belles must be an operation of some skill, for the false is so very well mingled with the real hair, that it might defy the sharp eye of the most prying old spinster to detect the method in which it is done.

We saw several girls at Berne working upon cushions (something in the manner of lace-makers), under the piazzas; they were embroidering the collars and stomachers of the Bernoise _paysannes_, in small Venetian beads (called in England seed beads) of all colours, gold tinsel, foil, &c. upon a ground of black velvet. Their performance was really very neat and tasteful. The prince Leopold of Coburg was here, at the same time with ourselves, looking very melancholy, and almost continually alone: he was on a visit to his sister, the grand duchess Constantine, who resides in the neighbourhood. She is separated from her husband, who is brother to the emperor of Russia. They were married, I believe (in pursuance of one of those horrible schemes of state policy, where every better feeling of the heart is cruelly sacrificed and overborne), at the age of fourteen, and the subsequent catastrophe is not to be wondered at. Of the society at Berne we could not judge, as our stay did not exceed three days and a half, but our English friend (lately mentioned, and who had been a great deal amongst the best families there) mentioned it to be particularly agreeable. During the winter, there are concerts and balls, private parties, and a company of actors. The hospital is a fine establishment, with a garden full of choice flowers and shrubs, green-house plants, and a fountain, being sustained upon the most liberal plan; any poor person, passing through the town, may find food and lodging at the hospital for twenty-four hours, and is sent away at the expiration of that time with a donation of one franc (value, in English money, tenpence). There is also an asylum for foundlings, where the children are maintained till they attain the age of fifteen, and are then put out to service. It being one of the market days, we saw many different costumes (belonging to the various cantons) assembled. That of the women of Guggisberg is frightfully ugly; a napkin is folded flat across the forehead, and tied behind in a slouching manner; the dress is of black cotton, with a very long waist, and the petticoat does not reach to the knee; their legs are terribly thick, but luckily this circumstance is reckoned amongst themselves as a beauty, and to increase it, they wear four or five pair of stockings at a time. Mr. B. observed a Tyrolese peasant, with whose manly beauty and elegant costume he was much struck. I did not see him myself; they are generally fine figures, strong and athletic, yet extremely graceful, the dress being always particularly becoming and highly picturesque.

The women of Lucerne I have already described, in the specimen of the rich miller's wife that we saw at Guminen. Entering the shop of a famous picture-dealer here, he shewed us a collection of portraits, of the most celebrated rural _belles_ of Switzerland, among which was that of the fair _bateliere_ of the lake Brientz. I hoped to have beheld another "Ellen, Lady of the Lake," but was greatly disappointed, not being able to admire the character of her beauty, thinking it far too coarse; but those persons who have really seen her assured us her picture by no means did her justice. We were also shewn a set of coloured prints from the original drawings of a poor wretch of the name of Mind[9]; he died about two years ago, and his works are very much valued in this country, not only for their intrinsic merit, but as being the performance of a _cretin_, which means an idiot, afflicted with a _goître_. We were told by the picture-dealer, who had known him well, that this Mind was one of the most deformed and horrible objects of the sort, and was perfectly imbecile and stupid in every thing that did not immediately relate to his art. He had (like some idiots who have fallen under my own personal observation) a prodigiously retentive memory, from the impressions of which he alone was able to draw. If he met any group of men or animals in his daily rambles, he would instantly run home, lock himself up, and produce shortly afterwards the most spirited and accurate drawing of the objects which had thus fired his fancy. The high finish of his colouring, also, was equally remarkable with the boldness of his outline; he more particularly excelled in drawing cats, and had completed a voluminous collection of these animals, in all their stages of existence and habits of life; from which circumstance he has obtained the name of _le Raffaelle des Chats_. At a first view of his works, we were inclined to doubt the truth of his having been so complete an idiot in all respects which were unconnected with his art; but as vague arguments of conjecture and probability, cannot stand against the positive evidence of attested facts, of course we gave up our objections, and felt that to persevere in them would be obstinacy, rather than penetration. The history of this man would, I think, form an interesting subject of reflection to the philosopher and the physician, and I wish it were generally known and published. This evening we went to see the exhibition of Mr. Koenig, an excellent landscape painter; it consisted of a set of transparent views (beautiful beyond any thing of the sort that we had ever previously beheld), taken from the most celebrated scenes in Switzerland; among them, we were most pleased with the chapel of William Tell (_note_ O.) by moonlight, on the lake of Zug, and with a cottage (also by moonlight) on the lakes of Bienne and Thun. The wonderful degree of nature and truth which these paintings displayed, I shall hardly forget; indeed I cannot say too much in praise of them, and would advise every traveller who visits Berne to go and see this enchanting little spectacle: I will venture to say his expectations will be greatly exceeded.

September 24th.--I must in justice recommend all our friends passing this way to take up their quarters _au Faucon_, as it is a most excellent house, and the mistress a very attentive sensible person.

I ought not to take leave of the place without also mentioning the _promenade_ upon the ramparts, and the glorious view of woods, hamlets, and glaciers to be seen from thence[10]. We were much amused in watching the sports of the youth of the town there, who have a green inclosure, where various games and exercises (resembling the ancient gymnastic) are carried on every evening, at a certain hour; they are admirably well calculated to cherish habits of activity and agility, and to promote both health and strength.

All the public offices here are served by persons who faithfully and zealously fulfil their functions, without emolument of any sort.

Marriages through Switzerland are much encouraged by some of their political institutions; in this canton, for instance, a bachelor cannot arrive at the honourable post of bailiff, or be admitted to the council, or become what they call a _seigneur_, which is an inferior office in the government; but at the same time so fearful are these governments of any circumstance that might in process of time by the accumulation of fortunes infringe upon their liberties, that marriages between cousins german are forbidden by law.

In the best statistic account of the population of this country taken from the public registers, it is estimated inclusive of the allied provinces at about two millions. The protestant cantons are found to be the most populous, as they are the most active, industrious, and commercial, but they are not always the richest.

The police is regulated with the most exemplary vigilance and good order; the canton is a protestant one.

Upon quitting Berne, we found the country a lovely repetition of rich waving woods (chiefly of beech and pine); the brilliant autumnal tints of the former trees glowing beneath the bright blue of a cheerful morning sky, and the aromatic perfume of the latter, scenting the freshness of the breeze. How weak and inadequate are words to express certain feelings of delight! How easy is it to mention woods and plains, rocks and lakes, and to expatiate upon the charm of each, in appropriate terms; yet how far are we all the time from conveying to the minds of our hearers or readers the sensation of enjoyment which thrilled through our own bosoms while actually beholding the scenes we attempt to describe.

We passed through several villages which appeared to be the favourite haunts of peace, health, and humble happiness. The parsonage-house in one of them was a charming picture of comfort, neatness, and picturesque taste; close to the cheerful little whitewashed church, it reared its grey venerable roof. The walls were covered by the spreading branches of a fruitful pear-tree, and the green latticed windows were shaded by a vine, which wreathed its graceful foliage, and hung in luxuriant clusters, likewise, over a small bower, or recess, adjoining the sitting-room, where I could imagine a simple primitive pastor and his happy family assembled together, enjoying the social evening meal. La Fontaine's lovely descriptions of such scenes and such beings, in his _Nouveau Tableau de Famille_, rushed upon my recollection, and I almost expected to see his sweet Augusta (in the days of her prime) come forth from the rustic porch, leaning on the arm of her valuable husband, and surrounded by their innocent and blooming race. When this same Augusta becomes a grandmother, I think La Fontaine has painted her too selfishly forgetful of the happiness of her youthful days, and of the feelings natural to girls at that age; it is not in character with the virtue and sentimental graces of her earlier years, and rather conduces to encourage in the bosom of the reader a sensation of indignant disgust at the rigid, frigid, and unamiable propensities sometimes found among the aged. This beautiful and affecting novel is so well known to all persons of good taste and discrimination, that my allusion to it will I hope be at once understood and forgiven. Beyond this neighbourhood, the country opened in the most striking manner, affording a fine and heart-cheering prospect of cultivated plains, fresh pastures, peaceful flocks and herds, walnut groves and thatched cottages; the latter looked at a distance like large beehives, and the inhabitants seemed to evince a similarity to the bees in their habits of brisk and lively industry. I can easily understand the pre-eminent attachment of the Swiss to their native land; they must indeed be senseless were they less alive to the charms of scenes like this.

We took an early dinner at Soleure (_note_ R.), or Solothurne. We were now in a catholic canton, and the difference of our accommodations at the inn (_la Couronne_) from those we had experienced in the protestant governments was very apparent, for once more dirt, in various shapes, made its unwelcome appearance. The houses were, some of them, painted gaudily on the whitewashed outsides, in the Italian manner, and the cathedral, of Grecian architecture, was full of paltry paintings. The costume of the townspeople was both tasteless and dirty; a white linen cap, with a border of muslin, half a yard in depth, flapping about in the most unbecoming way, increasing the general plainness of the women's features. Their persons, also, were awkward and ill made, particularly about the legs and feet. The place itself was full of bad smells, but situated in a picturesque part of the country. As we proceeded, we found the cottages decrease in beauty; nor did they exhibit the same degree of _aisance_ and comfort as those near Berne. The fields likewise partook of this spirit of decline, appearing less cultivated and productive. We could not help attributing this to the people having their time so perpetually broken in upon by the necessity of going to mass, and by the too frequent recurrence of _jours de fêtes_.

We passed a fine picturesque old castle upon the left, a few miles beyond Soleure, and arriving at Balstadt (a dirty-looking village), where we slept, found a most uncomfortable, slovenly inn, and bad attendance; and to heighten our miseries, our friend became so much worse, that we were obliged to send for what medical assistance the wretched place afforded. Accordingly there arrived the "village leech," who had much the air of a farrier, or cow-doctor, and who applied various nostrums without success. His unfortunate patient made a vigorous effort to shake him off the next morning, and we went on, hoping to get as far as Basle. We started with two horses and three mules, having to ascend a steep mountain immediately upon quitting Balstadt (or rather Ballstall, in modern orthography). The surrounding scenery was of a very different nature from that of the preceding day: the road (in some places nearly as perpendicular as any in the wild mountains of Savoy) led us through pale grey rocks, scooped occasionally into quarries, and fringed on one side by an infinite variety of young trees of every sort, and on the other by extensive woods of pine, whose shades formed a beautiful contrast to the brighter verdure of the velvet turf, from which they sprung. We observed (as usual) great numbers of wild barberry trees, and juniper bushes, while the purple heath-bell, waving her fairy cups amid the moss and thyme, upon every bank, gave a smiling character to the foreground.

Falkenstein Castle (a fantastic ruin, crowning the summit of a bold jutting mass of rock far above our heads) had a very imposing effect. The battled walls and narrow round towers were so much of the same colour as the mountain from which they rose, as scarcely to be distinguished from it at a distance. It reminded us strongly of some of Mrs. Radcliffe's descriptions, and our fancy easily peopled it with a terrific baron, a fair suffering heroine, a captive lover, and every other requisite _et cetera_ of romance. As we were now in _German_ Switzerland, such visions were not inappropriate, and my readers will pardon them accordingly. We saw another castle, also, further on, situated upon an eminence in the midst of magnificent woods of beech, and looking down upon a pretty hamlet of white cottages, each with its neat little _verger_ and _potager_, some of them shaded by vines, and almost all furnished with a range of beehives. The inhabitants were gathering the walnuts, apples, and plums, from their loaded trees, as we passed: a clear little wimpling stream ran through the village, and the spire of the church rose among rich tufted foliage in perspective. We began to suspect, from this appearance of comfort and neatness, that we were once more in the neighbourhood of a protestant government, which we found afterwards was really the case. The sweet stream I have just mentioned was so kind as to accompany us for a considerable way, pure, sparkling, and dashing its shallow waters over the yellow pebbles, with a rippling murmur that was delightfully soothing to the ear. The country again resumed the woody, cultivated appearance, which is so pleasing to behold, and gradually expanded into lovely meadows, which the little brook kept forever fresh and verdant.

We stopped at Liestall, where we found a cleaner town, a better inn, and a more prepossessing hostess than at Ballstall. The people manufacture gloves here: they were good, but very dear. It is not to be told how disagreeably the German language grated upon our ears in passing through these cantons; after the mellifluous harmony of the Italian, and even when compared with the French, it was doubly intolerable. Our own is harsh enough, in the opinion of foreigners; yet I can with difficulty imagine any thing so bad as German.

We arrived to dinner at Basle. This is a very large town (under a protestant jurisdiction), clean and gay. Its chief attraction to us was the river Rhine, which rolled its majestic waters beneath the windows of our auberge (_les Trois Rois_), which was spacious and convenient. We ascended to our apartments by a curious spiral staircase, in an old round tower, that formed part of the building.

The Rhine is a noble river, but inferior in beauty of colour to the Rhone at Geneva. Indeed the latter I cannot at this moment recollect without a feeling of pleasure and admiration impossible to describe.

We left Basle, Sept. 26. The road as far as Bourglibre, and even considerably beyond it, was flat and uninteresting; the cottages rather dirty than otherwise, and extremely ugly; the costume of the peasantry very indistinctly marked, and by no means becoming, being a wretched imitation of the French. All this was accounted for, when we recollected that we had now once more entered the territories of that nation, leaving modern Germany on our right, and turning our backs upon the sweet simplicity and unequalled charms of Switzerland. The postillion also strongly evinced the national character, mounting his horse with a true _gasconade_ flourish, and cracking his whip in the old well-remembered style.

We dined and slept at Colmar. The inn (_aux Six Montagnes Noirs_) was dirty, and the attendance very mediocre; but the beds were good, and free from vermin. Our host was the most hideous man I ever saw: he was absolutely strangling with fat; his bristly grizzled hair was strained off the forehead, and forced into a long thick queue, with so tight a hand, that the water in consequence was perpetually running from his little red eyes; his voice in speaking was most unpleasantly guttural, and rendered still more disagreeable by the absurd mixture of bad French and German, which he sputtered with great difficulty, in answering our necessary questions. His daughter usually sat in the bar, playing a French love ditty upon an old guitar. Of her I can only say, that she was the "softened image" of her "honoured papa."

The _paysannes_ in the near neighbourhood of Colmar wear a pretty little flat, round-eared cap, at the back of the head, made either of very gay coloured silk, or cotton, and sometimes of gold tissue with crimson spots; their neck handkerchiefs are likewise of the brightest dyes, thrown carelessly over the gown, and the ends confined before, by a girdle. These women, generally speaking, are not at all handsome; the men chiefly wear coats of coarse bright green cloth, without collars, enormously long waisted waistcoats (sometimes red, laced with gold, and large buttons), with cocked hats.

The country upon first leaving Colmar was mountainous, but not very pleasing or interesting, in spite of the inequality of ground, the presence of verdure, the view of distant villages, and a very fine clear sky; all of which are notwithstanding the materials for forming a beautiful landscape. This, to my mind, had an analogy with the persons of some women I had formerly seen; who possessed fine hair and teeth, clear bright eyes, a good complexion, were sufficiently young, and not ill-made; yet with all these requisites to beauty, were plain, awkward, and totally wanting in agreeable effect. A strange caprice of nature, but not less true than strange.

The face of things, however, rather improved, upon approaching Schelestat. The costume of the _paysannes_ brightened into a degree of taste and neatness that we had not seen equalled since leaving St. Denis, near Paris. Some of their caps were wholly of white worked muslin, with a thin clear border, and bound neatly round the head by a light blue or rose-coloured riband: the gowns also sometimes varied, being not unfrequently made of white cotton, with gay crimson sprigs upon them. We continually saw castles and churches upon the surrounding heights, and a great number of vineyards; but the villages and small towns were invariably dirty, and very ugly.

Since we had left Basle, we had been travelling through Alsace (ancient Germany), in the department of the Haut Rhin. A few miles farther, brought us into the vicinity of very fine fresh pasture lands, bordered by willows, and relieved by a magnificently rich back ground of high hills, clothed with young beech-trees, intermingled with oak. Here vast herds of cattle were feeding; close to the road, and forming a sort of border to the meadows, were extensive fields of potatoes, turnips, cabbages, and broccoli, &c. without any guard or inclosure; this (as I formerly mentioned) spoke well for the honesty of the poor people, and at all events proved them to be enjoying a degree of ease and plenty, as far as _vegetable_ riches were concerned. I remarked, in the hedges here, the first honey-suckles I had seen since leaving England. The costume of the young infants in this part of the world is very singular; they all wear little foundling-shaped caps of black velvet, studded with gold spots, or of white, with silver embroidery upon them, which has a very strange effect to an English eye; but among the French people there is such an infinite variety of fanciful attire, that nothing appears extraordinary or out of the common way.