Part 6

_21st._ Having agreed yesterday with the apothecary of the place (to whose shop I go almost daily with some prescription or other from Sir Humphry, who often varies his medicines) to ascend one of the nearer Alps, we started for the summit of the Zimitz early this morning: we crossed over hills and dales, through woods and fields, till we came to the foot of the mountain, on the top of which we proposed eating our dinner, which we carried in our pockets. My companion had told me before that he had already ascended this Alp, and was well acquainted with the road; but when we began the ascent he confessed that he was at a loss, and our only alternative was to turn back, or find our way as we could. We chose the latter, and confiding in our own eyes and limbs, we followed the course of a mountain torrent, which came rushing down the rocks. Stepping from rock to rock, we in a short time came to the entrance of a snow-cave, through which this little stream flowed. Close to the snow we found many rare plants, and amongst others the yellow violet of the Alps. Before entering into this cave, which had been formed in a fallen avalanche, I slipped on the rock, and was obliged to jump into the icy cold water, which was fortunately not deep. The cave, however, repaid me for my cold bath. Entering through an opening in its roof of snow, the rays of the sun illuminated its dark and rocky sides, and were reflected upon the water that flowed through the middle. On looking towards the opposite end of the cave, through a lofty arch of snow, we beheld a distant waterfall, whilst the rocks and bushes, finely lighted by the rays of the sun, contrasted strongly with the darkness of the cave, whose fretted roof seemed as if hewn out of the finest white marble into large descending points, from which the melting snow was continually dropping. Having made a slight sketch of this fairy scene, we left the cave, and, following the rivulet, soon reached the waterfall which we had seen in the distance through the arch of snow. An immense barrier of rock here put an end to our progress in this direction, and we were obliged to turn to the right, where the ascent appeared more possible. My companion made a considerable detour whilst I attempted to climb up the rocks; but I had not ascended more than twenty feet, when, on catching hold of a small fir-tree, it snapped off, and I rolled down the rocks into the rivulet below. In spite of my fall I reascended, and with some difficulty reached the uppermost rock, and found myself in a situation whence I could no longer ascend nor descend. At last my companion appeared above, and reaching down to me his long alpine pole, I clung to it, and with his assistance thus extricated myself from my most unpleasant and perilous situation; I was, however, so exhausted, that we were obliged to wait a full half hour before we could proceed on our ascent. Our road then lay for a long time through a forest of pine and beech, till we came to a brook, whose course we followed to its rise, which was in a large snow. We passed quickly over this, and then saw that we only had about a fourth part of the ascent to accomplish. We journeyed on merrily, although we were obliged, for upwards of an hour, to climb with the help of hands and feet over the rocks, till we came to the last, though not easiest part of the journey. This was a wood of dwarf firs, which an avalanche of the last winter in its descent had laid flat upon the ground, though their roots generally remained fixed. We scrambled over and through these, and, after all difficulties, I found myself, about two o'clock, on the snow-clad ridge of the mountain. My companion was still battling with the prostrate firs, but arrived about a quarter of an hour afterwards, and we then went on to the highest of the five peaks which form the summit of the Zimitz, between seven and eight thousand feet above the sea. The view from this spot amply repaid us for the toil and danger we had encountered in reaching it. Many thousand feet below us we beheld four large lakes surrounded by green mountains and vallies glowing in the sun; beyond these lay the wide extended plains of Bavaria, clothed with glittering towns and villages, over which the eye wandered to a far distant horizon, bounded only by the clear blue sky.

Looking back we saw down into many a dark valley, out of which rose numberless snow peaks, and high above the rest the majestic Schneeberg, with its eternal glaciers, and at a yet greater distance the still more lofty peaks of the Salzburg chain; but the reflection of the sun from the vast and glaring fields of snow was so strong that the eye could scarcely bear to look at them, and turned with delight to the green woods and lakes below. Having spent an hour in the pure air of these upper regions, we began to descend by a very different road to the one we had chosen in ascending, which, though better and not so rocky, was in many parts so steep, that we were in continual danger of pitching forwards, and were therefore obliged to seat ourselves each upon a stout branch of a fir-tree, and thus ride down. Having traversed two snow fields, we came to some as yet uninhabited huts, about half-way down the mountain, from whence a good sheep path conducted us into a valley. Here we got some milk in one of the dairy huts, and then made the best of our way towards Ischl, as a thunderstorm, which we had for some time seen approaching, was now fast gathering round us, and the peasants advised us to hasten as quickly as possible, but long before we could reach home it burst over us with tremendous violence. The rain came down in such torrents, that in five minutes the road was more than ankle deep in water, but it soon changed into hail, like a shower of nuts, accompanied by the loudest thunder and most vivid lightning. Thus, soaked but much refreshed, we reached Ischl about eight o'clock in the evening.

_July 13th._ Sir Humphry is already tired of Ischl, and has left off the use of the baths, by which, however, he has been much strengthened, and his health in general improved, but I suppose we shall soon quit this place, though he seldom fixes on his departure till a day or two before. New guests arrive daily, and this little place is filled with company. Parties of pleasure and jaunts are arranged every day to some of the neighbouring lakes or vallies, or other points worthy of being visited. I have only joined a few of these, for Sir Humphry not knowing well what to do with his morning if I am out of the way, I can of course only be one in those parties which occupy the afternoon. The first of the two most interesting trips was to the _Chorinsky Klause_.

A _Klause_, in these alpine countries, generally signifies a dam or embankment, built over some mountain stream, in the centre of which are flood-gates, which can be closed so as to shut in the stream, which by degrees collects behind the wall or dam, till it forms a small lake. The use of this arrangement is to float down the wood which is cut in the mountains into the larger rivers, the mountain streams not having in summer a sufficient body of water to effect this without this contrivance. The fir-trees, cut into pieces from five to ten feet long, are rolled down from the mountain into these artificial lakes. When a sufficient quantity is collected on the surface, or the water rises too high, the _Klause wird gesprengt_, that is, the flood-gates are opened, and the pent up lake rushing out with tremendous velocity, carries the wood along with it into the river of the neighbouring valley. It was to see the water let out that we went to the Klause. We started from Ischl after dinner, at one o'clock, a large party in six or seven carriages, and drove up the valley of the Traun, for about a league and a half, to Weissenbach, a village at the foot of the mountain on which the Klause is situated. Here we left our carriages and walked up the mountain, the road being very steep. I joined a party consisting of Madame de B---- and her daughter, a Greek gentleman and his wife, and two or three others, and we seemed much to have shortened a hot walk of an hour and a half up hill by chatting on various subjects.

We found the Chorinsky Klause to consist of a very strong and thick wall, from thirty to forty feet high, built across a narrow valley. In the centre of the wall was a large flood-gate, and on each side of it a much smaller one. These were situated at a considerable height above a clear shallow pool which lay at the foot of the wall, and was formed by the superfluous water which had drained from the lake, already over full. The whole party having taken a good position in front of the Klause, the signal was given. The workmen struck the spring of the flood-gates in the centre, which instantly burst open with a noise resembling a sudden but hollow clap of thunder; at the same moment an immense spout of water rushed forth, filling the space before occupied by the invisible air. It was the work of a second, and it was a magnificent sight to see the tranquil pool in an instant transformed into a basin of curling foam, pouring with irresistible violence over the rocks of the foreground, and whirling up the sand from the bottom of the stream, which was for the first five minutes nothing but foam of a muddy brown colour, till it changed by degrees to a pure white. The lesser flood-gates were afterwards opened, and then three streams poured forth at once from the lake. This scene lasted for nearly half an hour, the cascades becoming less and less as the quantity of water in the lake diminished, until the latter was perfectly drained; and where but a short time before we beheld a beautifully clear lake, we now saw only cleanly washed pebbles and sand, through which a little insignificant rill was running. Our walk back was very pleasant and shady. Among the party Madame A---- and Madame L----, two celebrated actresses, the one in comedy, the other in tragedy, from Vienna, were pointed out to me; the former of whom was a handsome woman, though of small stature, and lively and animated in her conversation. After this excursion I very often met a great many of the party in a small public garden called the Volksgarten, to distinguish it from the Prater, and where it is the fashion to spend an hour before dinner. The conversation one day turned upon the following lines, which were found written upon a table in the garden:

Espérance d'un meilleur sort Toujours renaissante et trahie, Voila l'histoire de ma vie; Il n'est rien de vrai que la mort!

Various were the discussions upon them, and the ladies took great pains to discover the author. Who could he be? Who was there in Ischl whose character at all answered to this description? No one could be hit upon with any certainty; but at last the lively Mademoiselle Marie, the daughter of Madame de B----, with whom I had walked to the Chorinsky Klause, declared it must be the solitary young Englishman, who so rarely joined in their parties of pleasure, and who visited nobody. It was in vain that I denied having written them, for they determined with one accord that I should be considered as the author, unless I should by the next morning produce four lines which might convince them of their error. I accepted the challenge, and accordingly after dinner, for the first time in my life, attempted to compose a couplet, and after ransacking my brains, I could produce nothing better than the following;--

Est elle donc vraie cette mort tant souhaitée? N'est ce pas naître à une plus mauvaise vie? Ne dirais tu pas dans l'éternité, La mort que j'ai desiré m'a trahie?--

which I the next morning wrote under those of the anonymous author. In the evening I met the greater part of the company at the little theatre, which had been finished the week before, and in which a small company of players from some neighbouring town were doing their best to amuse the gay visitants of the baths. The ladies, and especially Mademoiselle Marie, said they had read the verses, and were more than ever persuaded of their being in the right, nor could all my rhetoric, aided by a pocket full of bonbons, convince them of the truth.

_18th._ This evening at a late hour Sir Humphry returned from his fishing, without either fish or rod, and, not a little vexed, begged I would go directly to the Commissary of the Police, and endeavour to regain his rod, which he told me had been taken from him in the following manner. He had driven along the banks of the Traun for about five miles, in a little chaise which he sometimes uses in his longer excursions, had been fishing for some hours, and was just preparing to return, when two men came up, one of whom began to talk to him and George in German, but as neither of them understood him, Sir Humphry proceeded to get into the carriage, whilst George took up the fish which had been caught. Upon this the man became more violent in his words and actions, and at last forcibly seized the rod and basket, and walked off with them. Although it was just ten o'clock, I went to the inn where I knew the Commissary generally supped, and luckily found him. I related to him what had happened, and he was very polite, but said nothing could be done that night, but begged me to come to him the next morning, and to bring the servant with me.

_19th._ I took George this morning to the Commissary, who, from his description, immediately recognized the offender, but found that he did not belong to his district, but to that of Ebensee, to the Commissary of which place he gave me a very civil letter. I returned to Sir Humphry, who said that I should take a carriage and drive over at once to Ebensee with George, and he gave me letters of introduction, which he had with him, to the Governor of the province, and some other great men, to show the Commissary. Arrived at Ebensee, I found the Commissary all civility, and the fisherman, who lived at some distance, was immediately summoned. In the mean time the Commissary told me that the rivers and lakes were let out in different portions to various fishermen, who alone have the right to fish, or allow any other person to do so, in that part which they rent, and he supposed that Sir Humphry had exceeded the limit of the portion belonging to the fisherman at Ischl, from whom he had obtained permission to fish.

Whilst waiting for the fisherman, I asked the Commissary if I could not see the salt works; he said certainly, and that he should be happy to show them to me, and I accordingly accompanied him thither, and found them to be on a very large scale. There are several evaporating pans, much larger than the one at Ischl, and immense reservoirs for the salt water are kept constantly by three pipes, through which it is conducted from Hallstadt, more than twenty-seven miles distant. These pipes, the master of the works told me, are always running, and should any accident happen to either of them, it can be easily repaired, in spite of the great distance they traverse, there being, at very short intervals, places where the pipes may be uncovered and examined. From the reservoirs the water is conducted into the pans, and the salt produced by the evaporation is taken out twice every day, and put into large conical baskets to drain, after which it is pressed into conical six-sided forms, of various sizes, from twenty to a hundred pounds each. These pyramids are then placed, some thousands at a time, in the baking rooms, where they are exposed to a very high temperature, which renders them quite firm and hard, after which they are carried into the store-houses, from whence the salt is sent to all parts of Austria. The quantity produced in this part of the country, in these salt-works, in those of Ischl, Aussee, Hallstadt, &c., must be immense, for I understand that from the warehouses of Ebensee alone, upwards of 25,000 tons of salt are sent annually across the lake of the Traun.

Upon the arrival of the fisherman we found the case to be as the Commissary had supposed, and the man pleaded in his defence that it was allowed to take away both rod and fish from any one so offending. The Commissary, however, told him he ought to have warned Sir Humphry of this. The poor man said he had done so, but they would not understand him, and in spite of his defence, the Commissary compelled him to deliver up the rod and basket, with which I returned to Ischl.

_21st._ Sir Humphry set out this morning in his little cabriolet on a fishing excursion up the valley of the Traun, to the lake of Hallstadt, and took me with him. This lake, about eight miles to the north east of Ischl, is of a very grand and imposing character, but still does not equal the Traun-See in the diversity and beauty of its banks. We drove over a wooden bridge at the end of the lake, where the Traun flows out of it, and then round its shores for a short distance to Obertraun, where the road terminated. We here took a boat and rowed for some miles up the lake, opposite to the small town of Hallstadt. The view from hence was superb; the nearer houses seemed built in the water, behind these the salt works are seen, extensive and noble buildings, more like the palace or seignoral chateau of the lord of the surrounding territory, than a manufactory; and beyond them rose the mountain which contains the salt-mine, a stupendous mass of rock capped with eternal snow, and to the left appeared the glaciers of the Schneeberg. Rather to the right of the saltworks, embosomed in wood, lay the rest of the town of Hallstadt, and one large house was situated some thousand feet above the lake, standing alone in the wood. Along the side of the mountain we saw what appeared to be a pathway, but the boatman told us this was the canal cut for the pipes which convey the salt-water from the mines of Hallstadt to the works of Ischl and Ebensee. This is a stupendous undertaking, for the pipes are conveyed a great distance over rivers and vallies and along mountains, where the passage for the pipes has been cut for many miles through the solid rock. Sir Humphry fished for some time but without success, when, not wishing to visit the town, we rowed back to the village of Obertraun, and on our way thither passed by the _Gosauzwang_, the most celebrated part of the saliduct or salt canal between Hallstadt and Ebensee. The three pipes are here carried across a very wild and romantic glen, the defile of the Gosau, a mountain stream which runs down through it. Four lofty columns of brick work, about two hundred feet in height, are built up from the bottom of the valley and from out of the waters of the Gosau, to a level with the pipes, which are thus carried over the valley, being laid from pier to pier; and they serve at the same time as a bridge to any foot passenger who may wish to pass, being railed in on each side. These pipes, after traversing one or two smaller streams, give part of their water to the salt works at Ischl, and are then carried on to Ebensee, where they fill the reservoirs which I saw when I visited the Commissary to procure the return of Sir Humphry's fishing rod.

_23rd._ Yesterday I went with a very large party, consisting of almost all the strangers in Ischl, to visit the _Salzberg_, the salt mountain or rather mine, which was to be illuminated for the visitors. We set out at about one o'clock, a long string of carriages, and after an hour's drive through a very pleasant valley, we arrived at the foot of the mountain which contains the mine. Here a number of miners were waiting with sedan chairs for the ladies, many of whom however preferred walking up the mountain, and in about three quarters of an hour we arrived at the _Haupt Eingang_, or chief entrance of the mine. We were now to be attired, as is usual on entering the mines, in a long white mantle or frock, and a large wide broad brim, the latter to hinder us from knocking our brains out, and the former to keep our clothes clean. Here was confusion dire; this frock was too small, this too long; this lady had no brimmer, this gentleman could find no stick. I laid hold of the first frock and hat I met with, but up came a lady and begged I would exchange with her, as her frock was so long she could not walk in it, and mine so short that it did not reach to my knees. _La grande toilette_ at length finished, the ladies were placed in their carriages, that is two in each wheelbarrow, face to face, with a miner before to pull, who carried a lamp in his hand, and another to push behind, and between every two barrows went another miner bearing a paper lanthorn. The gentlemen were of course on foot, with the exception of one or two gouty invalids.

In this guise, with half-a-dozen miners going before carrying lamps, the whole train entered the passage, and in a few seconds lost sight of daylight. After a long, wet, and (in spite of our many lamps) dark journey through this narrow and low passage, where my head was continually coming in contact with the roof, we came to the _Rutsch_, or slide, which leads down into the salt-chamber. This _Rutsch_ is formed of the trunks of two large fir-trees laid close together, rounded and polished, and placed in an oblique direction, in an angle of about forty degrees. A miner, with a lamp in one hand, places himself astride these trees, and holds with his other hand a cord which is fixed to the rock on the sides. The person who wishes to descend seats himself behind the miner, and holds him by the shoulders. The miner then lets the cord slip through his hands, and down they go like lightning into what seems an abyss of darkness: safe at the bottom, he gives a shout that the next couple may follow. When the _Rutsch_ is very long, as in the mines at Hallein, near Salzburg, the miner always sits upon a thick leather apron, and when alone makes no use of the cord, but rushes down with a fearful impetus into the salt-cave below. When we arrived at the _Rutsch_, and the ladies had all got out of their barrows, after much discussion and many fears and doubts, they consented thus to descend, as the miners assured them it was more dangerous to do so by the steps cut in the rock at the side, which were exceedingly precipitous and very wet. Having reached the bottom of the _Rutsch_, which ends in a slight curve to break the impetus of the descent, we found ourselves in an immense cavern, or room, excavated in the rock, about twelve feet high, and from ten to twelve thousand in circumference, supported in the middle by a massive pillar of rock, and lighted up by some hundred lamps, which, however, only served to give the scene a more awful and gloomy appearance. The visitors, whose number was considerable, in their long white mantles and hats, looked like spectres wandering in the shades of a nether world. The roof and walls of this cavern were covered with minute crystals of salt, not, however, sufficiently large to give to it the glittering appearance which I had expected. The mountain contains a great many of these _Salzkammern_ or salt-chambers, which at different periods are filled with fresh water, conducted into them by wooden pipes. When this has dissolved a sufficient quantity of salt, which operation occupies some months, it is drained off through a deep perpendicular shaft, near the middle of the cave, and is then conducted through wooden pipes, often for a very great distance, to the boiling-houses, where it undergoes the progress of evaporation.